I Will Go Down On This Ship
by MissMahjong
Summary: Sherlock and John are sent to go under cover on a gay cruise line to solve and bust a drug trading ring, prepare for awkward, hilarious and embarrassing moments. Sherlock/John or John/Sherlock, Slash, Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to their respective creators, I am merely a fan of their works and wish to pay tribute in a way that amuses me and bring practice to my writing so that one day, my own works of fiction can have it's own fanfiction. I own nothing.

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

It was around 7:56 in the evening; Lestrade was waiting outside the doorstep of 221B Baker Street, when he saw a black car pull up. Mycroft Holmes had called him earlier about a crime; they talked and came to an agreement, to put Sherlock Holmes and John Watson on the case. The elder Holmes brother got out of the car and greeted Lestrade with a nod of his head.

"Ready?"

"Let's hope he takes it." Responded Lestrade

"He will, he can't refuse a good mystery, however it's best if you go first."

They entered and went up to the flat where Sherlock was playing a lovely tune on his violin and John was typing away on his computer. Sherlock stopped playing and turned around at the sound of footsteps and John looked up.

"Ah, Lestrade, coming in person to hand deliver a case?"

"Something like that."

Mycroft walked in and Sherlock's expression changed from subtle delight to stoic rebellion.

"No."

"You don't even know what it is." Said the Detective Inspector

"I don't have to, just knowing that Mycroft wants me on it is enough."

"Yes, as you can see Lestrade, my baby brother refuses to cooperate, even if it is of great importance."

The Holmes brothers were glaring at each other until John coughed.

"Um would you two like to sit?"

"Thanks John." Said the Inspector, while taking a seat on the couch

"I prefer to stand, thank you." Said Mycroft.

Sherlock put away his violin and leaned against the desk, in between the two tall windows.

"Great importance? Care to elaborate?"

"Inspector, I'll let you go first." Mycroft motioned for him to talk

"You two heard there is an infection of deadly drugs going around that is killing young men and women? Right?"

"Go on?"

"Well, just a few days a ago, two notorious drug traders just turned themselves in, saying that they wanted to get away from that life, however, they are booked on a cruise ship, headed towards the south of France for a drug lord and trade meeting. They were suppose to discuss trading, money and other drug information, it's all in their profile folder. Their names are George and Ash, and we need you two to go undercover as them."

Jon made a face that seemed to agree with the idea of going undercover, but Sherlock was giving Lestrade and Mycroft skeptical looks.

"There's something else, isn't there? Something that you're not telling us."

The Detective Inspector sighed and John felt a small bit of fear while Sherlock smirked, already knowing what the Inspector was going to say.

"The cruise line is called Fabulous Starlit Nights."

"There it is." Oh, did Sherlock feel smug, he knew it.

"I'm sorry, what about Fabulous Starlit Nights?"

"It's a gay cruise line, John."

"What?"

"It's true, we believe that the drug lords booked this cruise because it is inconspicuous, honestly, who would believe that some of the biggest drug lords on this side of the world would have a get together on a gay cruise line? For a vacation? I think not." Cheeked in Mycroft.

"I should also add that these two men are married to each other, hence, why they turned themselves in, said something about wanting a peaceful life."

John blanched a bit but pulled himself together,

"Well, um, as interesting as this sounds, I'm going to have to de-?!"

"We'll do it."

"Hang on?"

"I've got no other case at the moment, and my mind is just starting to rot. This is perfect, plus it's undercover work, so my thinking will have to work twice as fast, yes!"

"Now wait a minute! I haven't agreed to this!"

"But this case requires the both of us."

"Yes, yes it does. However, **I** haven't agreed to this crazy idea."

Sherlock gave him a look, studying his face,

"Can you give us a minute."

"Yeah, sure." Said Lestrade and Mycroft nodded

Sherlock pulled John by the sleeve on his jumper and they went to the far side of the kitchen to talk.

"What's wrong?"

"I, I just, I, **This!** This whole thing, is wrong. No, you or rather, **they** are asking for too much, I can't, I can't do it, I just can't."

"Are you really uncomfortable with the idea of being my husband?"

"Yes! Of course I am because I'm not gay!"

"John, it's not like you're **actually** going to have sex with me but you need to act like you **are** having sex with me."

"Do you hear what you're saying?"

"Yes, always."

"No, I don't think you do."

Sherlock got closer to John to talk quietly to him.

"I remember a time where you were comfortable with me being a homosexual."

"And it turns out that you're not an any type of sexual, plus I was just making conversation at the time."

"You asked if I had a boyfriend."

"I also asked if you had a girlfriend and what does that have to with this?"

"Everything."

"What? No, no, this, **this** is different. This is more than just hidden implications of are they or aren't they? This is a statement."

"A false statement, John."

"I just… I don't'… -sigh-"

"Your insecurity speaks volumes."

"What?"

"The fact that you're so uncomfortable at the idea of acting gay is an insight that you're not confident in your masculinity to act that way."

"What are you trying to say?"

"A real man would act gay in the name of justice."

John just gives him a look that says 'Damn you!'

After a few minutes of waiting, Mycroft and Lestrade see the brunette and the dirty blond return to the living room.

"It has been settled" proclaimed Sherlock

"Alright, we'll do it." John reluctantly threw out, arms crossed over his chest, clearly annoyed. Inspector Lestrade had a content look on his face while Mycroft smirked, all too knowing.

~ Divide Line~

Sherlock and John were going through the profile folders and the traders profile folders, turns out George was short and a bit stocky while Ash was slim and a bit willowy, no wonder Lestrade and Mycroft put them on the case, they fit the descriptions perfectly. Mycroft was talking about the case and the drug traders

"Ash is cunning and handles most of the trade deals with other drug lords and George manages the drug logistics and verifies that all the drugs meet their dealer locations-"

John then thought of something

"Wait, wouldn't the drug lords know that we're not the real George and Ash?"

"No, all of their drug trade deals are done through computer and text, no actual voice contact or in person contact, except now. A new drug has been developed and we want you two to find out the name, general effects on the body, selling price, distribution locations and everything else you can find. This in person meeting is about a worldwide distribution of the drug. All information is in the case profile and all information on George and Ash, including behavior; mannerisms and etc. are all in their profiles. Oh, almost forgot, here are your cruise tickets, Passports, debit and credit cards, VIP passes for cruise line events and this."

Mycroft gave them the necessary paper work tickets, reached in his suit pocket, pulled out a small box and gave it to John. John had a feeling of what was inside the box and dread it, but opened the box anyway. Two gold bands, snug inside their white velvet holder, only solidified the fact that they were going to go undercover as a gay married couple. Sherlock leaned over to look at the rings,

"Elegant yet simple, I like it."

John made a fussy sigh and noticed that all eyes were on him.

"What?"

"Well?

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to put the ring on my finger?"

"No, you can do it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, got the box, put one ring on his finger and surprised John by putting the other ring on the doctor's finger.

"There, it's done."

John was looking at his hand where the ring was, turning it back and forth, trying to come to terms with what just happened.

Lestrade got up from the couch, and left them with a farewell and good luck, while Mycroft gave them a few more details.

"Your ship leaves in two days, which leaves you time to prepare and to do some shopping. I'll have a car ready to pick you up at 4:15 in the morning. I'll be leaving now, good bye." And Mycroft left the flat.

~Divide Line: The Sequel~

Sherlock and John continued their reading of the profiles, examining the case and the drug traders profiles. John looked up from his chair when Sherlock suddenly stood up in front of him.

"Let's perform an experiment"

"An experiment?"

"A test."

"A test?"

"A gay test, John."

"What?"

Sherlock unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, pants and all, to show John his dick.

"Jesus Christ Sherlock! What are you doing?! I don't need to see that, put it away!"

"Does it turn you on?"

John was looking any where except in front of him, mumbling

"We are not having this conversation right now, we are not having this conversation right now, we are not…"

"John!"

"Of course not, no! Your dick does not turn me on! Now put it away, please?"

"Hm." Sherlock re-did his pants and turned slightly to show John his cloth-covered ass.

"Does **this**, turn you on?"

"Sherlock, come on."

"Well does it John? Be honest."

Watson let out a sigh and looked at Sherlock's bum.

"No, it does nothing for me."

"Then you don't have to worry about being gay because you're obviously not."

"You know, that's a horrible stereotype, not all gay men are after dick and arse. They want love too."

"Yes, I understand that, however do these men look like they have a relationship based on love at first sight?"

John looked at the pictures of the men in the folders.

"Well, they did marry each other."

"That they did, but their relationship probably started out of lust. Get up."

"Oh, what now?"

"Just get up and stand by my side, we need to practice."

"Practice what exactly?" John got up and stood warily by Sherlock's right side.

"Now, grab my arse."

"What? No, I refuse!"

"Put. Your. Hand. On. My. Arse. And. Grab. It." Sherlock clenched through his teeth and forcing John's hand on his rear, while the doctor set his lips in a thin line of frustration. John wasn't so much grabbing as he was just resting his hand in the curve of Sherlock's ass cheek.

"If you were ten year old school boy and grabbing a girl's arse for the first time, you're doing a fine job, but you're not ten, now grab my arse like a man, dammit!"

Irate, John grabbed that cheek in a firm gripped which startled Sherlock and made him jump a bit.

"That's better. Ok, now pinch."

John gave him a dubious look

"You want me to pinch your arse?"

"Yes."

John gave that arse a good hard pinch and Sherlock was startled again. The tall brunette sent a small glare towards John, but the doctor gave him a look that said 'You asked for it?'

"Alright, fine, now caress my arse as if you own it."

John caressed

"Not good enough. Caress it like you mean it."

"But I don't-!"

"I don't care, just do it!"

John caressed again with the possession Sherlock told him about. The detective mad a sound of frustration.

"No, not good enough." Sherlock stepped away form John, thinking.

"Have a seat on the couch, John."

Watson gave him a skeptical look,

"Why?"

"We're still not convincing enough, just sit down and you'll see."

John dreaded where this could head but sat down. For Sherlock, this de-sensitization was becoming tedious, but he sat very close to John, with his chin on the doctor's shoulder and draped his arms around the smaller man. John was feeling flustered.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush, John, we're cuddling." John shivered when Sherlock spoke near his ear, it felt too intimate and he blushed

"Cuddling for what?" the dirty blond squeaked out, knowing that cuddling usually came after a certain night or day activity. Was Sherlock trying to prepare him for something?

"For the case, obviously."

"Um, you know what, I want out, you can do this by yourself, besides, you don't really need me anyway so, I'm done. I-?!"

Suddenly, Sherlock straddle the doctor's lap, John wanted to react but he felt trapped and flustered.

"Sherlock, what are you-?!"

The brunette on his lap stared his piercing gaze into John's eyes, looking for something.

"If we were to de-sensitize you about male on male intimacy, at your pace, it would take an entire week, we don't have time for that."

John felt like a deer trapped by headlights,

"So..?"

"So I'm speeding up the process." Sherlock held John's head in his hands and kissed him, full on the mouth. John was dazed, thinking and not thinking at the same time, but also feeling the kiss. His best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was kissing him; he felt awkward and embarrassed, which intensified when Sherlock was trying to prop open his mouth with that brilliant tongue. John didn't want to open his mouth, but Sherlock reached down and grabbed John's crotch, which made the doctor gasp. Sherlock's tongue invaded Watson's mouth, trying to make contact with the doctor's, but John was avoiding that type of contact. Or at least he tried; the endeavor was futile because Sherlock and John made tongue contact and it felt strangely pleasant for John, which freaked him out a bit. Sherlock felt a small spark in the kiss but figured that it's been a while since he's kissed anyone.

They broke the kiss, blushing, panting and trying to catch their breath. Sherlock and John avoided eye contact for a while, each trying to figure out if they actually felt something or if it was just a natural body response, they eventually looked at each other, with Sherlock still straddling John.

"How was that?" Sherlock asked, a little breathless

"That was, that was good. That was, wow." Said a slightly out of breath John

"Good."

"Yeah…and for you? How was it?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fine, just fine."

"Oh, good…good."

Silence creeped between them for a few seconds, but Sherlock broke the awkward silence

"Was that weird for you?"

"To be honest, yes it was, but.. in a good way, surprisingly. Normally, something like that would have been the bad kind of weird."

"Normal, who wants normal? Normal is boring." Sherlock scoffed

John smirked but was internally thinking 'why am I letting Sherlock still be in my lap?'

"Did, you feel anything?"

"Other than extremely awkward and embarrassed? No, nothing at all." John left out that he felt a small something but he refused to give that idea any attention.

"Did you?"

"No, sentiment disrupts my brain process. I was just wondering, since your emotional attachment is of the average person, compared to mine, which is the size od a teaspoon, or so I've been told" Sherlock wasn't being truthful as well, he left out that he felt something too, but locked up that idea.

The silence reigned again.

"We still need to go over some more stuff, to really convince people. I think we should practice George and Ash's behavior and mannerisms tomorrow, when we go shopping."

"Out in public? I don't' know."

"We'll go to a shop where nobody knows us."

"That's impossible, nearly everyone who watches the telly or reads a newspaper, knows about us."

"Then, we'll go to a shop where they don't care for idle gossip and tabloids. Goodnight John" Sherlock gave him a small good night peck on the lips and got off his lap to go to bed, but he stopped and faced Watson.

"Oh, another thing, tomorrow night, we're sharing my bed."

"Shar-sharing your bed?"

"Yeah, to prepare for the case. Sleeping with me isn't so bad, I remember being told I was a damn good shag, but don't freak out, we're just sleeping, not shagging. Night."

John sat there for a while, still trying to comprehend what the hell just happened, when a thought occurred, 'Who did Sherlock sleep with?'

**Author's Note: **I'm debating about finishing this, the dialogue wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. I have some ideas but I'm not sure on how I can get to it. Review if you want.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to their respective creators

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

The men's clothing shop was of high class, courtesy of Mycroft, of course. John was stunned at the shops opulence, the inside was bright, white marble floors and far too large. John grimaced at the prices of the articles of clothing, while Sherlock seemed indifferent, proof that Sherlock came from money. They were looking at the ties when John's curiosity on the case won out.

"So, what are our roles, exactly?"

"George and Ash, been married for almost a week and two days, experts in import and exports laws and how to get around them-?"

"Yeah, I get all that, but what kind of dynamic do they have? Do they openly display their relationship, or keep it behind closed doors? Or, perhaps, they-?"

Sherlock turned away from the ties, to face John and look him direct in the eyes.

"Here's their dynamic, John. You're the top, I'm the bottom, I'm the bitch, you're the butch, you're the Dom, I'm the Sub, and when I say fuck me, you are to fuck me-"

"Ok, alright, I get it, enough, please."

They continued browsing the store, Sherlock finding clothes for himself and John, some articles of clothing far more flashier for Sherlock's wardrobe. Both men were guided to a large alcove area, secluded from the rest of the shop with a large grey couch near the open entrance, a three panel mirror to the left of said couch and directly in front of the couch was a single door of the changing room. Sherlock wanted to act the part of being Ash with John but he noticed that John wasn't ready to play that role yet. Time was not a luxury they had, Sherlock was glad that he shocked the majority of resistance out of John the day before, but some still lingered. Sherlock had today and tomorrow to prep John, there was no time to lose.

Sherlock went in the dressing room, changed his shirt and came out to show John.

"What do you think of this?" he was in plain white shirt, looking at his reflection and taking some glances and Watson

"Yeah, sure."

Sherlock went back in, changed and came out again.

"How about this?" It was a silk shirt with sheen

"A shiny shirt? Really?" Watson laughed a bit.

"Why not?"

"No reason, get them if you want." John had no other response; the shiny shirts did compliment Sherlock.

"Ok, I'll take these three shirts and these five silk shirts. Ties be damned, I'll get suspenders when we're done here."

Sherlock organized his shirt choices from the non-choices and gathered all the trousers in his arms to try on. John had his own clothing choices near him, waiting for Sherlock to be done. The brunette came out, looking at himself in the mirror and once again looking every now and then at John.

"How do these look?"

"They look fine, just fine."

"Just fine? No, tell me how my arse looks in these."

"Didn't we have this conversation yesterday?"

"No, this is a different **arse** conversation, one that's more complimentary to my derriere."

John sighed, oh the frustration.

"It looks…, ok, if your arse were that of a women's, I'd have no problem looking at it, hell, I'd want to look at it."

"Would you want to pound into it?"

"Yes. Shit! No! No! Because I'm not after your arse, I'm after women's arses-I'm after women-I'm interested in women, shit! Oh God, you got me sounding like a pervert."

Sherlock gave him a skeptic's look, pierced lips and narrow eyes, the gazed of a judgmental hawk.

"Never mind, ok, I'll talk about your arse. It's nice, **for a man**, and it's round and sticks out a bit."

"Sticks out a bit?"

"Yeah, you're slim except for that part, it's out there and… curvy. It sticks out."

"Are you saying I have a large arse?"

"Not at all."

"So you're telling me, I have a ba-donka-donk?"

"I didn't say that, I did not say that, no."

"You should have, it's very complimentary."

John sighed, again.

Sherlock went back inside, dressed in his normal clothes, went over to the couch John was at and joined him, and began organizing and coordinating his own outfits and John's outfits. Sherlock's outfits, John noticed were very flattering on his figure, revealing enough to seduce men, but not enough to reveal everything.

"Are you sure you want that kind of attention"

"From you or rather George? Yes."

"You don't know how much I want back out of this. To get out of this situation, go back to the flat, in my room and never come out again."

"What's stopping you?" Sherlock locked eyes with John, a genuine question in their ice blue depths, john stuttered for an answer.

"I-I-I can't just leave you to solve this case **and** try to protect your arse at the same time from men who'll want to use you as a cum slut!" Sherlock raised an eye brow, John horrified was at his response and mumbled,

"And I did not just say that right now."

"Which is why I need to you to appear as if you own my arse."

"Here we go."

"When we get on that ship, feel free to caress it, grab, pinch and spank my arse if you have too. I have no qualms over it, that's why we practiced yesterday, which reminds me, we need to go over spanking today, I left that out, damn."

"Right, spanking, added to the check list of several ways to humiliate one John Watson."

"Please, if I wanted to humiliate you, I would have tied my self up, naked, on one of the surgery beds, where you work, fully erect and wantonly ask for the assistance of one Dr. John Watson."

"Wow, I, um… wow. Yeah, remind me to never start a prank war with you."

"It is imperative that you play my dominant better half."

"And that's another thing, not all gay men fall in to a stereotype of Dom and Sub, or feminine and fashionable. There are other dynamics; most couples trade positions in the bedroom, some male couples are masculine men and other male couples are really masculine, sometimes quite frightening in appearance."

"Oh John, your concern is showing."

"Huh?"

"You're a LGBT supporter, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, you know, my sister and all that."

"Did you ever go with her to a Gay Day Parade?"

"Yeah, once, before our disagreement."

"That's putting it mildly."

"Sherlock." The dirty blond sent the brunette a small glare.

"Never mind, just think of the cruise as one week long Gay Day Parade."

"Fine, yeah, sure." Sherlock organized all his clothes he tried on, John was in slight astonishment, looking at all the clothes.

"That's a lot of clothing for a week."

"I need options. Go on, it's your turn to try on clothes and model for me."

Turns out they bought an entire new wardrobe for the both of them, shirts, shoes, trousers, socks, coats, undershirts, pants, suspenders, pants, and some ties for John to wear as George. At the last minute, Sherlock eyed some silk scarves and added them to the bill. Sherlock ordered that everything be delivered to the flat, while they go to lunch.

The eatery was more of a hole in the wall, with French furnishings, reminiscent of Paris, France. Detective and doctor were seated in a booth near the back of the place, sitting directly across from each other.

"When we get back to the flat, we need to review the profiles, we need to make sure that we have all necessary information locked in our memory, especially your memory. It needs work."

"Yeah, ok, thanks." Sarcasm evident in John's voice.

"We also need to do some more intimacy practice, spanking included."

"Something I'm not looking forward too."

The waitress overheard their conversation and coughed to get their attention, took their order, John ordering lunch and Sherlock tea, and left.

"We can't keep talking about male intimacy as if it were the **bloody weather**."

"No one told her to eavesdrop on us, besides she wasn't your type. Damaged hair, split ends from too hair bleaching and tinting, trying her best to appear young but the neck skin doesn't match the face skin, Botox, of course. Bags under the eyes from lack of sleep, could be from stress, but is it work related or personal? With the way she carries herself, hunched over and hiding, it's personal stress. Hands over her abdomen, signify a miscarriage or abortion, most likely the later, so why bother to try and cover it if her apron already does? One word, guilt, she doesn't want anyone to know, however there is a skin discrepancy on her ring finger, sans the ring, most likely a divorce. So, she is a stressed woman working a dead end job, feeling the effects of a divorce that she brought upon herself because she didn't tell her husband about the abortion at the time and now she wants to hit on you. Can I get a 'Damn, you're good'?"

"Prat."

The waitress came back, smiling at both of them and winking at John, trying to flirt. She obviously hadn't over heard them that time and soon left them.

"I didn't even know I had a type."

"Yeah, it was difficult, trying to see how those women attracted you because none of them looked alike. **Most** people have a certain body structure, voice or appearance that they are attracted to, **you** on the other hand are attracted to a certain kind of behavior in woman."

"Behavior?"

"Yes, they are either, clingy, possessive, pretentious, or they're stupid, not one shred of intellect. If I knew those women were your type, I would have set you up with Molly, just so you could stop dating those other women and get married to a smart, decent girl."

"Well, why haven't you."

"Because Molly has a boyfriend, his name is Thomas, portable, re-chargeable and waterproof."

"I did not need to know that, far too much information, really."

"Couldn't help but notice some strength in her left hand." Remarked off handily, checking for dirt under his finger nails. John blanched and decided to quickly change the topic from Molly Hooper.

"Ok! Back to the topic of my type of woman, the… not so bright ones, are not girlfriend material but I appreciate what they do for me and do **to** me at night."

"John, I can do any of those things to you, you only have to ask."

"And once again, loud and clearly for the whole class to hear, I'm not-?!"

"Yes, I get it, you're not queer, same old boring song. Isn't it tedious to claim a sexual orientation? To stick to one side when the possibilities of experimenting are outstanding. Think of the science behind sex, possible thought process, but not much, bodily reactions to touches of erogenous zones, sensitivity, pupil dilation, increased heart rate causing changes to breathing patterns, pheromones released in the armpits and genitalia, let alone the secretion of bodily fluids. The movement behind sex, back and forth, up and down, in and out, the stamina, the build up to orgasm and completion. And that's just with one partner of one sex, one controlled experiment. Imagine the possibilities of different partners, more than one partner, orgies, toys, lube, whips, chains and-?"

"Please, enough! No more sex talk, I'm trying to eat." John was getting dizzy about the subject, not wanting to hear about it anymore, but was now wondering, how much experience does Sherlock have with sex?

"My apologizes."

"Thank you."

"But there was another thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"Shit."

"Pet names."

"Pet names? You want to talk about pet names?"

"Yes, it's a small yet critical detail we need. Think of one for me and I'll think of one for you."

"Um… Love?"

"No, it's too common, what about Daddy?"

"Nope, no, no, absolutely not, that's just weird. Sweetheart?"

"Are we in grade school? Sexy?"

"No. Honey?"

"Boring. Georgie?"

"Eh, no, sounds odd. Babe or baby?"

"No, sounds more like something to use during sex, 'Oh, baby, yes, just like that'!" Sherlock's sudden moaning startled John and turned his face red; he felt all eyes in the place on their table.

"Oh my God, please, shut up!"

"Only if you agree that the terms babe and baby are only good during sex."

"Alright, fine, I'll agree. Holy Shit! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"No, you're much to fit for that…What about, Sir?"

John looked Sherlock dead in the eyes, piercing his lips together, which only made Sherlock grin smugly, worthy of a Cheshire Cat.

"I may have stumbled on to something."

"No, you didn't."

"Wrong. Yes I did… Sir."

John looked around before leaning forward and talking quietly.

"Fine, I may have a thing for military rank and, yeah, ok, I'm not proud of it."

"Why not, makes you interesting, finally, a small and very dirty little secret, it's kind of sexy, but I'll dwell on that later. Now, if I call you Sir?" Sherlock responded in the same quiet volume, leaning forward as well.

"Then, I would have to call you, Private."

"Erotic… let's use it."

"And my military memories have been forever tainted, thanks life. I appreciate the gesture."

"You know, talking to oneself is the first sign of schizophrenia."

John sat up in his seat, raised his arms, shouting at the nearest waitress,

"Check please!"

After lunch, they walked back to the flat, finding their earlier shopping deliveries in the living room; John was about to sit down in his chair when Sherlock called him.

"Come here, John."

"And what am I doing now?" he said, semi exhausted from the day, it was only the afternoon.

"Spank me."

"Oh, not this shit again."

"Just do it."

John spanked Sherlock, the slap echoed in the living room as well as Sherlock's surprised yelp.

"Ah! Ouch."

"Shit, sorry, was that too hard." John cringed at his word choice but Sherlock didn't notice.

"No, it was just right… You're a quick learner."

"So, that was…good, then?" John felt content at the approval

"You act like I never give you praise."

"Well, you don't,"

"Yes I do." Sherlock scoffed

"Yeah, and then you shoot down my deductions."

"I apologize."

"Yeah, alright."

Sherlock handed John his George profile, while he got his own Ash profile.

"We need to start, and after, I'll quiz you."

John groaned in misery, he was in for a long night.

They finally stopped, late in the evening; John's eyes were red with fatigue while Sherlock's eyes were heavy with the same fatigue. The task of having john memorize George's profile and give in character responses was strenuous, but achievable.

"Sherlock, it's late, we should go to bed."

"You're right, there is still some more shopping and more in character practices we need to do. Tomorrow then."

"Ok, night." John got up and started to walk when Sherlock called out to him,

"Where are you going?"

"My room? Of course."

"Not tonight."

That's right, tonight was the night they were going to try sleeping in the same bed, as preparation for the case. Sherlock stood up from his chair and went to wards his bedroom; John followed, reluctantly but hung back a bit.

"Can I at least get some supplies from my room?"

"Sure."

Watson, entered his own room, got his personal toiletry supplies, his blanket, entered Sherlock's room, saw his mop of hair already in bed, and went into Sherlock's bathroom to prepare for bed. As tired as John was, he was also trying to calm himself down. Sleeping in the same bed with your best friend, it doesn't mean anything; they're just sleeping, that's all. About a good five minutes of mental preparation and some small physical abuse to his face, John was ready, to sleep in the same bed as Sherlock, but the walk from the bathroom to the bed felt like a death walk, slow motion and full of dread and anxiety. John gathered his blanket ready to lie down when Sherlock pooped his head out from the covers

"You brought your blanket?"

"Yeah."

"No, we're sleeping under the same blanket."

"Sherlock."

"That's the arrangement on the ship, so we have to get used to sharing the bed and one blanket. Come on, it'll be fine."

John sighed in frustration and defeat, opened the blanket only to be mortified at the sight of what was under.

"You sleep naked!"

"Most nights, yes, but not tonight, look, boy shorts."

Indeed, Sherlock did have boy shorts on, baby blue boy short and they were perfect fit, but John stopped and severely killed that thought before it got worse. One does not think about your best friend in that context, especially if you're going to share a bed with said best friend, but there was something he had to know.

"Did you get those at the shop earlier?"

"Yes and they are surprisingly comfortable, we should go back and buy yourself some, perhaps some red ones?"

John rolled his eyes, leave it to Sherlock to make normally embarrassing situations, seem normal with his indifferent eyes. The dirty blonde got in, lying on the far side away from Sherlock, facing away from the man.

"I'll let you sleep that far for tonight bit tomorrow night, we are going to cuddle."

"Goodnight Sherlock."

The brunette leaned over, pulled John over and gave him a very chaste peck on the lips, only to return to his original spot, blanket semi-covering his head of curls. John slowly returned to his position as well, unknowingly to each other, they both felt a small spark, and chose to ignore it, again. Sherlock almost forgot to give John some last minute advice.

"Oh, don't worry over morning erections, they're a natural body response, so don't feel weird about having one." That piece of advice only made the whole predicament worse in John's mind, Shit.

"Goodnight. Sherlock." He said through clenched teeth

"Night John."

Sherlock was softly snoring a few minutes later, while John had a bit of trouble falling asleep, but his body won out and dozed off.

**Author's Note:** The people have spoken, I have listened and here was your Chp. 2. If your wondering about Sherlock's sexuality, I like to think of him not so much claiming one, but not really giving a shit of what people think about who he chooses to fuck or love, his decision. I'm not picking on Molly, she's one of the few well written female characters that desire the romantic attention of the main character, but she's probably repressed with all that porn that is Sherlock Holmes, enter Thomas, The Vibrator. As for Sherlock's yelp when John spanked him, it was inspired by Cabin Pressure: Rotterdam. Review if y'all want.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me; they belong to their respective creators.

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

They entered a shopping mall, Sherlock leading the way and John doing all he can to forget his earlier embarrassment. Both of the men woke up to the sound of someone coughing to get their attention and John found himself spooning Sherlock, quickly got out of the hold, only to see Mycroft Holmes in the doorway. Sherlock popped his head out to the blanket, saw it was only Mycroft and lied back down, while John was red in the face. The comment the elder Holmes brother gave them didn't help either.

"I'm not entirely sure if I should be content in your case preparation or worried if this a recreational activity."

"Please shut up and explain your presence?" Sherlock demanded

Mycroft gave them more information about the case and found pictures of other drug lords, high profile dealers and traders. Mycroft asked about their plans and preparations and suggested that John shouldn't call Sherlock 'Private', but instead to call him 'Dear' or 'Dearest'. Sherlock protested, asking where was the fun in that and Mycroft drilled him that the case was not a free vacation, that it was serious matter, and blah, blah, blah. Sherlock rolled his eyes and tuned him out, to hear 'wah, wah, wah'. Mycroft soon left, feathers clearly ruffled, like an angry cockatiel, when Sherlock didn't take him seriously.

John and Sherlock reached their destined store, inside the shopping center,

"No!" John turned around and tried to quickly walk away.

"Oh yes, c'mon." Sherlock grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the store. It was a sex shop and John's red face returned with a force, looking at the intimate and racy clothing designed for both women and men. They were approaching a store employee, a young woman, and the level of John's awkwardness increased immensely. Sherlock got her attention.

"Hello, how can I help you gentleman?"

"Well, it looks like your items are scattered about, but I was curious if you have one section just for homosexual couples?"

John face palmed, leave it to Sherlock to ask someone about sex so casually.

"Like a sex kit for men?"

"Yeah, but with silk ties, feathers, a blind fold, cock rings, dildos, vibrators, anal plugs, maybe flesh lights, anal douches, condoms and lube, lots of lube. We're going on vacation and I want to be prepared for a week of romance, isn't that right love?"

John fought against the feeling of running out of there but just barely, he swallowed his pride, to play along with the charade, in a way; he was practicing for the undercover work.

"Yeah, plan on re-kindling the fire, you know, lots and lots of sex, going to try different positions, sex all over the hotel room, just a marathon of sex…yeah."

John looked at Sherlock for approval, but ended up seeing a puzzled look trying to cover up potential laughter, the tall brunette kept his cool though. The young woman wasn't fazed but was slightly surprised.

"Might want to stop by a market for some energy drinks, might get tired after all that. We do have sex kits that cater to male couples, most kits include the basics; condoms, lube, a small vibrator or dildo and a few other little gifts. All other items you would have to buy separately. I can show to where the kits are located, if you want?"

"Sure."

They followed her to the section of the shop and she left them alone to browse and choose their kit. Sherlock was observing the kits when John started to whisper furiously at him.

"What is the point of being here?"

"Are you really that dense?"

"We aren't here to-to buy sex toys for ourselves, we're not having sex!"

"Yes, you made that quite clear the past few days, but this is for the case. To give the appearance of George and Ash, an image of fucking each other. I thought you did well in telling her about the sex marathon. I bet she visualized it, seeing you as a thrusting engine that could; it's quite entertaining."

"Stop imagining, just stop!"

"I'm debating between these two kits; The Gentleman's Forbidden Boudoir or The Ruffian's Romp Room."

"Can you just pick one so we can leave?!"

"Hm… I'll get both."

"Let's go!"

"Not yet, we've only just begun."

After a while of shopping, both men approached the check out counter and placed their various items on it, with John being so red in the face, he looked ready to explode while Sherlock had not one ounce of shame.

"Did you boys have any trouble finding things?" asked the sales woman

"No."

"Got all the items you wanted?"

"Yeah, although I tried to find a collar and leash that would look flattering on my neck, but no such luck. I'm also tempted to buy ass-less chaps for my man,"

John shook his head and mouthed 'no', when they turned to him.

"But as you can see, he's not fond of those."

"Do you two role play?"

"No, but it seems like fun."

"It is, go a head and try it but start out slowly, so you don't scare him from trying different things."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Not a problem, tamed my boyfriend when we role played Naughty Professor and student, had him begging me, down on all fours to let him fuck me. That was a fun night, oh and don't forget to use a safe word, when role playing, all couples should use a safe word."

"Thanks again."

"C'mon, Dear!" the doctor called out.

John casually sprinted out the store while Sherlock just strolled out, not giving a single damn when people noticed his bag.

They spent the rest of the day shopping for extra travel supplies, a few more clothing items, and at the flat going over the new information they received that morning and packing for the case. They were getting ready for bed, with John waiting for Sherlock on the bed first because they were going to cuddle, some extra intimacy practice. In the past few days, there was a small storm of questions in the back of John's mind and it was bothering him, but he didn't know how approach it with Sherlock. Eventually the tall brunette got into bed, wearing those damned boy shorts again, in grey. Sherlock overlooked John's sleep wear, a simple shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms.

"Fine, I'll let you sleep in that for now, but when we reach warmer temperatures on the ship, you're sleeping in your pants and only you're pants."

"Did you get that from Titanic?"

Sherlock had a blank look on his face,

"Let's go to sleep, John."

Both men had to maneuver around a bit to find comfortable positions, until Sherlock initiated a kiss from John and they started to make out, with the doctor hesitant but giving in. Chapped lips massaging soft lips, Sherlock's been using the Chap Stick he bought earlier. Tongues were soon involved, making their bodies hot and every little wet sound they made seemed loud in John's ears

"John, dominate me." Sherlock murmured against the doctor's mouth and Watson move them, so that the brunette was on his back with John on top of him and had his long legs spread open the accommodate the dirty blond, still kissing and really getting into their activity.

The start of this small practice session was enthusiastic on both sides but John let his thoughts get the better of him, Sherlock noticed and stopped the kissing.

"Something's bothering you, what is it?"

John was hovering over Sherlock, but didn't look him in the eye.

"John, tell me."

"I just-I just don't get it!" the doctor sat, in between Sherlock's Legs

"Get what?"

"**This!** How does this not bother you?! This whole intimacy practice, the acting queer, the touching, the kissing, how are **you** not affected?"

Sherlock sat up, looking John square in the eyes.

"Why? Are you affected?"

"No," which was a filthy lie, because John was beginning to feel attraction towards his friend, but he wouldn't reveal anything until he knew for sure, it could just be a small crush, and they usually pass anyway. John continued,

"I just want to know why it doesn't bother you?"

"Because **it** doesn't to bother me, all this physical contact only affects my body, not my mind, they are two separate entities. You can have sex with someone and not be in love with them, right?"

"Right."

"Exactly, sex based on lust."

"And feelings?"

"There is no room for emotions on this case, other than the established ones," Sherlock lied, he too, felt some attraction towards John but he locked it up in his Mind Palace Dungeon, he continued,

"John you are my friend and I can trust you, which is why I feel comfortable being intimate with you, because I know you will not take advantage of our roles on this case. When the time comes, and there will be a time, have no doubts, I can trust you with my body."

"You trust me?"

"Indeed, yes."

John was hesitant to ask this but he needed to know.

"Can you trust me not to feel anything for you while were doing this-this charade?"

"Should you develop feelings for me, I'll be flattered, yes but it's entirely your decision, although it's best if you didn't, I can only imagine how awkward it will be for you when we get back."

John was amused and smiled a bit, satisfied with Sherlock's response but still wary of what they were getting them selves into.

"So, I'm just being paranoid about all this?"

"Yes."

"When I should just play along?"

"Yes, finally, you get it. C'mon, it's late."

They both settled into comfortable positions, intertwined with each other and John gave Sherlock a quick good night peck on the lips. They were just lying there, each in their own mind wrestling with their thoughts, Sherlock spoke up.

"I can't understand how you can't keep a girlfriend? That thing you did with your tongue, that was amazingly erotic."

"Shut up, Sherlock."

They soon fell a sleep.

~ The Next Morning~

Sherlock and John were in a black car, on their way to the harbor for the cruise, with John trying to fight his nerves. It was one thing to prepare for something like this but it was another thing entirely to actually do what they were about to do. John wasn't feeling well, Sherlock noticed and held his hand, not as part of the charade but as a friend; John squeezed it in appreciation. Oh was it going to be a long week, filled with God know what, but was glad he brought some headache pills; he would be needing those.

**Author's Note:** Yay, another page before they get on the damned boat, hope it was to your liking, because my readers are a fun bunch. I have so many ideas to for these boys on the cruise; I just need to figure out how to lay it all out. Fun times are ahead, review if you want.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to their respective creators

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

The car finally reached the harbor, with the smell of the ocean reaching their nostrils. John gazed out the tinted windows, marveling at the crowd and colors even thought the weather was cloud covered. Harbor assistants and security directed the car to a VIP passenger loading area, since their tickets and cruise package was for the most esteemed of guest.

"Ready John?"

"Just-just give me a moment."

"You're nervous."

"Great deduction."

Sherlock rolled his eyes,

"But we've prepared for this."

"Yeah, however, it's real this time, no, no room to muck it up. It's down to the wire now, no mistakes, on a ship full of queer men, pretending to be married to you and meeting up with drug lords, because we're suppose to be drug traders organizing a massive drug distribution but also introducing a new lethal drug into the market and-!" the doctor panicked.

"John! Relax! It'll be ok. We've studied our part, we have all the necessary information and tools and most of all; no matter if we're our selves or George and Ash, **we** are a team."

"Yeah, ok… ok, let's go."

"Got your head on?"

"Yeah, c'mon."

The crowd of male vacation goers and some few female vacationers watched in awe and intrigue as a luxurious black car pull up to the VIP area. So far, they've seen with interest quiet a few luxury vehicles pull up and drop off wealthy men, but this car was by far the best looking one. Filled with curiosity, the crowd watched to see who was going to come out of the car, they weren't disappointed.

The car door opened, out stepped a tall curly haired brunette man with the features of sculpted marble and slim body, wearing a grey designer suit with a shiny slate blue shirt, no tie but some people spotted suspenders. The statuesque man was texting on a cell phone when he turned his attention to in side the car and smiled a gorgeous smile at who ever was still in the vehicle.

The crowd didn't have to wait for long, soon another man step out that was nearly a foot shorter than the brunette. The man had sandy or dirty blond cropped hair under a black fedora with rough Shakespearean faun like features, a sturdy build and dressed in a black designer suit, complete with white shirt, black and silver stripped tie, with an overcoat and white silk scarf draped around his overcoat collar. His presence and posture spoke authority with nearly demanded respect, especially the steel in his dark blue eyes, compared to his car mate, whose eyes were ice blue with some seductive playfulness in their depths, they spoke of secrets.

The tall gentleman looked at the ship in awe, and walked over to the shorter man to kiss him deeply, which made some of the single men in the crowd feel discouraged because obliviously this beautiful man was clearly taken, the glinting of rings on their hands when the sun peek in between the clouds, was no joke. The shorter man smiled at his love when the kiss broke, the crowd noticed, a soft sincere smile only for that man before he wiped it away and began to dictate the valets on their luggage and how to handle it.

Sherlock and John showed their tickets to the boarding clerk and were soon guided to their suite, with their luggage following close. Along the way, John whispered to Sherlock,

"Got any text yet?"

"No."

The second time Mycroft visited them, he instructed Sherlock on how Ash was keeping correspondents with others in the drug circle, and Sherlock was soon texting and receiving texts as Ash.

"See anyone from the pictures?"

"Not yet."

Their guiding assistant introduced them to a sharp dressed man behind an elegant front desk.

"Mr. Dalton, here are the gentlemen George and Ash McGillis. Sirs, here is your Cabin Suite Concierge, Mr. Howard Dalton."

"Hello, gentlemen, and welcome a aboard the S.S. Ophelia for the Fabulous Starlit Nights Cruise. Let's check you in to Palace Atlantis."

He shook both of their hands, and they did the necessary paper work, which was only possible because Mycroft forged every single piece of documentation they would need, including passports.

"Alright, gentlemen, if you would follow me please, I'll show you to your suite, the Coral Haven."

Sherlock and John, in disguise, followed the Concierge to their room where they were greeted with quite a site. Spacious and bright, showing that the sun finally broke through the clouds, with the window curtains open. Carpeted flooring, a luxurious couch, coffee table in front of a large flat screen television, with a wet bar and small refrigerator near the large door size windows, which actually lead to a balcony. The most spectacular aspect of this room were the colors used to truly represent a coral reef, with rich hues that were coordinated nicely.

"Here is your suite, the Coral Haven, complete with wet bar, small refrigerator, and private balcony. Along with a separate bedroom through that door with a king size bed and attached bathroom with Jacuzzi bathtub, standing shower, twin sinks and toilet."

"It's enchanting, the colors are extraordinary. Oh, young man, do be careful with that, I've got my essential bathing oils in there." Ash addressed one of the valets with their luggage as they organized it and left the room.

"These windows are strong, yes? Ocean conditions being unpredictable and all." asked George

"Yes sir, the windows can endure very powerful and unforgiving weather the ocean may throw our way."

"Good, excellent."

"I've got a question about the walls." Said Ash

"The walls, sir?"

"Yes, are they sound proof? I wouldn't want to disturb the other guest with inconsiderate noise but we're on our honeymoon." Ash linked his arm with George's arm, subtly enjoying the semi-concealed blanch on the man's face, oh was Sherlock going to have fun him.

"The walls, sir, aren't exactly sound proof however the only thing that can possibly be heard is a shout, although it will sound muffled." Mr. Dalton then blushed a bit at the possible implications of his words. Ash smirked while George had no reaction, waiting for the Concierge to continue.

"Eh-em, moving on, there are a total of ten suites in Palace Atlantis, five on this floor and five on the floor above. Here is your cruise packet, complete with a map of the entire ship, a list of scheduled events, various numbers and extension lines to ring, shops and restaurants, spas, the doctors office, gymnasium, pool, etc. And here are your card keys, two copies for each person because they are exclusive with pre-filled benefits and easy to lose. Is there any thing else I can help you gentlemen with?"

"What time does the ship sail?" asked George

"We are scheduled to leave at one o'clock on the dot."

"Lovely, that'll be all Dalton." Ash dismissed him, taking a seat on the couch

"Then I'll leave you gentlemen, but know that I will be at your service while you are guest on this voyage."

George closed the door when the Concierge left, locking it as well.

John took off his overcoat and fedora, placed them neatly at the end of the couch and seat near Sherlock, lying back and finally breathing in some relief, Sherlock joined him in leaning back, relaxing. John chuckled a bit,

"I can't believe it."

"Me too, the colors in this room are not clashing at all."

"Not that. What just happened, them believing were, oh-never mind."

"What?"

"The room, is it safe to talk out loud?"

"Yeah, you see that bottle of rum there in the cabinet?" Sherlock pointed towards the bar.

"Is that the square bottle?"

"No, its next to it, the oval bottle with the ridges."

"Oh, what about it?"

"That particular brand of rum is Mycroft's favorite, so the suite is safe, Mycroft had his people in here."

"Good to know he's watching out for us, or listening really."

"Yeah, well, go on with what you were saying."

"Oh, yeah, I can't believe we got a way with that. God, I was so nervous, I'm still in slight disbelief."

"Yes, another advantage of being related to someone with the Queen's authority, the power to pull strings to get us on a cruise line for a pseudo honeymoon vacation. That's a cheeky sense of humor if we weren't on the job."

"Hm." John smirked and looked around,

"This room is amazing, but the price for one of these rooms a night must be frightening, let alone a week."

"The price of this room is enough send you into a conniption." Sherlock looked at his watch and stood up,

"C'mon, let's get some lunch before we set sail, I want to see the departure from the deck after."

John got up too and they both left the suite.

The restaurant they went two was a simple but classy dining area, packed with other cruise guests. Sherlock in John spoke with the host and were asked if they could wait. There were two older gentlemen waiting to be seated, one of them was quite short and stout with small brown eyes, a handle bar moustache, peppering hair, and dressed casually with a blue polo shirt and khakis. His companion however was built with muscles, large hazel eyes, light brown hair and dressed similarly only with a white polo shirt and sandals. The host addressed to two khaki-ed men.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, but we have a four person table available and the restaurants policy is to only allow four persons may be seated. I'm afraid it will be another thirty minutes until a two person table is made available."

"That is trouble some." Said the moustache-ed man

"Would you two care to join us for lunch, it'll be fun to meet new friends on this ship." The muscle man asked Ash and George

"Well, I don't mind, George, care to join them?"

"Not at all."

The made introductions, the moustache man went by Vern and his muscle partner went by Charles. They were soon guided to their table, given menus and glasses of water while they decided their orders.

"So glad to finally get a table, wasn't able to have breakfast this morning 'cause we left the house so early." Said Charles

"Hon, remember that you wanted to leave early."

"Oh, I know, I'm far too excited for this trip, it's our anniversary vacation and how about you two, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Newly weds, on our honeymoon." replied Ash

"You two don't act like newly weds."

"Well, George isn't fond of too much PDA, but I'll take what I can get from him, holding hands, a kiss or two."

"I see, but I don't understand how you two can be here having lunch, when you could be in your room, shagging like rabbits."

"That's what the rest of the week is for."

They all laughed, when the waiter came back to take their orders and left them again to converse.

"Anniversary…how long have you two been married?" Ash asked Charles

"Five happy and wonderful years, although technically, it is a civil partnership but it feels like marriage."

"Five years, that's great. If you don't mind, how did you two meet?"

"Oh, we met at a pub, Vern here was going through some difficulties with work, we chatted, got drunk, shagged and woke up the next morning with splitting hangovers. It's not an ideal meeting of true love but we connected and he was a good shag."

"Is a good shag, love, **is**." interjected Vern. Ash and George listened to them with amusement.

"Fine, you're still a good shag, but you're starting to lose stamina, no thanks to all those biscuits you eat."

"I need small nibbles with my tea, you know that."

"Yeah, but we're definitely working out more often, at least some endurance training."

"I don't mind one particular type of endurance training."

"Oh, stop it Vern."

They laughed again, enjoying each other's company.

"Now that we shared our story, how about yours? How did you two meet?"

Ash had the decency to blush but looked away when George gently brought Ash's face to meet his own face, giving him reassuring eye contact, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in comfort. Even though they were playing a part, Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat at the tenderness John was showing him, which went unnoticed by John and the other two men. The elder couple saw this, Charles spoke,

"Oh, if you don't want to tell us, that's fine, we understand-"

"No, it's alright, he just gets embarrassed."

"Well, it is embarrassing." Said Ash

"At the time, yes, but looking back on it, it's funny."

"George!"

Charles and Vern were intrigued, George spoke,

"We meet at work, in the Pharmacy of St. Bart's Hospital, I'm a Pharmacist and Ash at the time, was an intern, so when I met him, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, he enchanted me and I was smitten. Turns out he felt the same way about my self but we paraded around each other until…" George peeked over at Ash, who was still blushing,

"Until what?" Vern asked

"Until one night, we both stayed at work late, I don't remember the reason but we did. Any way, we both stayed to work but not much got done, with me being so close to him, I kissed him. That turned into snogging which eventually lead to, well, let's just say I'm glad our work requires us to where white lab coats."

Vern and Charles guffawed, clearly enjoying that story; even Ash was smiling from his previous pout.

"That night nearly turned into a scandal."

"Only because we almost got caught, **almost**." The whole table laughed.

The waiter came with their food and they all began to eat.

While having lunch, Sherlock and John spotted one of the drug lords from the pictures, Kenichi 'Red Warrior' Toshi, a drug lord from Japan, he was dressed casually but was surrounded by several burly Japanese men, dressed casually but looking slightly silly, they clearly looked better in suits. The doctor and detective didn't make any type of contact with the man, but keep tabs on his behavior and such. Lunch was over and it was about five minutes until the ship departed, Charles and Vern joined George and Ash to see when the ship left the harbor.

"Where are your rooms?"

"We have a suite on Deck B."

"Are those the palace Atlantis Suites?"

"Yes."

"So lucky, I hear those are prime suites."

"I really don't care what room we could have had on this trip, as long as I'm with him, but George just loves to spoil me."

"You're still so lucky, we have a room on Deck E, near the casino, Vern's got a weakness for gambling."

"Slots or tables?"

"Tables, says there's more of a chance to actually win compared to playing the slots."

"Smart man."

"He is…"

Sherlock was observing Charles, studying the way this man looked adoringly at Vern and wondered was this what it was like to be in love, to open your heart to another and trust them with it. Sure he trusted John with his life and body, but could he trust the doctor with his emotions when he couldn't trust himself with them, which is why he locks them up in the Dungeon of his Mind Palace in the first place. Emotion, feelings, sentiment, disrupted his thinking process so he put them away, not letting them cloud his brain, but there was always that little nagging in the back of his mind, he ignored it.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you two and we should definitely meet up again while we're on this ship, of course I'll understand if you're both 'too busy'."

"No, that's a good idea Charles, we could have breakfast together."

The ship started to move, inch by inch away from the harbor and the crowd, both on the harbor and on the ship cheered, waving farewells at each other.

"I'll kept in contact, oh, and I hope you and your husband have a great honeymoon."

"On a ship like this, we'll have a great time."

"Oh John, I'm having a miserable time." Sherlock clung to the toilet, as if it were a shrine to worship and relished the coolness of the porcelain against his heated and flushed face. He wore only a simple shirt and dark blue boy short pants, but he looked miserable, sweaty and fatigued from vomiting, John, in his sleep wear, a long shirt and boxers, was leaning against the door away, wanting to help the detective but staying put as Sherlock told him too.

"Didn't you know you were sea sick?"

"No, or if I did, I-" He puked and again

"Forgot. The world needs to stop moving."

"It's no the world, it's the ship, in the ocean, which takes up 70% of the world."

"Thank you, that was most informative, as if I didn't already know."

"Just though it was one of those things that you deleted from your, hard drive."

"Kind of hard to delete that when the world moves to make me suffer."

John felt bad for Sherlock; he looked like death, with small tears at the corners of his red blue eyes from all the vomiting, looking flushed and pasty at the same time, and out of breath.

"I called room service, asked them for some ginger ale."

"Oh… good to know your stomach can handle drinks-" Sherlock retched, which was a more a dry heave since nothing came out but it was still awful and started to affect his head.

"It's not for me it's for you, to settle your stomach."

"My… stoma-" another dry heave with spittle, the corner tears in his eyes running down his cheeks, he gave John a dejected look.

"John, please make it stop, I can't."

The doorbell to their suite rang, getting their attention.

"When you're done, get in the bed and rest, I'll find you some Benadryl as well."

John got the ginger ale and medicine, and went back to the bedroom, to see Sherlock getting in.

"I just remembered, there was a time I got sea sick before, I was very young, on my uncle's yacht… I blame Mycroft."

"You don't think…"

Sherlock gave him a look

"Not think, know."

Somewhere in London, Mycroft Holmes was laughing his ass off.

John shook his head and gave him the drink and medicine.

"Here, take this."

Sherlock took the pill and downed the ginger ale, although he almost gaged it out, he swallowed it.

"Now lie down."

"But we need to talk about that Toshi fellow."

"We can talk about him tomorrow, just rest, I'll be back."

The doctor left to the bathroom, was in there for a few small minutes and came back to lie down near Sherlock.

"-gasp- What's that?"

"Cool wet towel, to bring down your temperature." John patted around the brunettes face and neck.

"That's nice." Sherlock's eyes fluttered close, allowing John to see his eyelashes, which were long. John continued patting Sherlock with the towel, but also watched Sherlock fall a sleep, with the rise on fall of his chest and the soft breaths evening out. The feelings John was starting to have for Sherlock came back, conflicting with his feelings of attraction towards women, he thought he was straight but he also found himself becoming attracted to Sherlock. John was confused but also felt pressured, which only doubled the confusion, oh what a mess his mind was. Trying to forget the maelstrom in his mind, he turned off the light beside the bed and got in a comfortable position, very close to Sherlock.

**Author's Note:** Yay, they're finally on the damn boat. I hope the transitions of them being them selves and being Ash and George aren't confusing, I tried to make it clear to read. I had to do some cruise line research, which also may have inspired some things in here. I just watched the second episode of To The Ends Of The Earth and I've had the idea of making Sherlock sea sick before watching that drama, but now I had too. Review if you want.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to their respective creators

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

John, again, felt eyes on him while he was slowly waking up, but he also felt a weight on his waist and opened his eyes.

"Ack!"

Waking up to Sherlock's face so close to his own wasn't as pleasant as one would think, especially those ice blue eyes watching, studying with a subtle determination.

"If we were really together, I'd make love to you right now."

John's eyes went wide, looking anywhere but Sherlock's face, and yet ended up looking at Sherlock. 'Where the hell did that come from?'

"Good to know you're feeling better."

Sherlock sat up, positioned on John's lap.

"I'd turn you on, make you erect, pulled out your dick and start bouncing on it like this."

Sherlock started to bounce slightly in John's lap. Although Sherlock was bouncing on John, he was on top the blanket, but the act of the cowgirl position was still too much for the doctor, he blushed red.

"Sher-Sherlock, stop, please, just um… that may be Benadryl, or at least the side effects." Sherlock stopped the bouncing, and got off of John,

"Nonsense, I feel much better, now get up, shower, wank, get dressed and meet me in the sitting room."

Sherlock left the bedroom, John got up but then realized what Sherlock said, 'wank', John looked down at his lap and had half a hard on, he face palmed, feeling his face turn red. Just from the simple motion and vision of Sherlock bouncing on his lap had this effect on him, John worried and yet looked forward to the rest of the week, as to why, he couldn't figure it out.

The dirty blond did his morning routine, debating if he should wank and decided to rub one off anyway, despite what the brunette said, he didn't have to know and John could always deny it. John entered the sitting room, seeing Sherlock on the couch eating a small breakfast from room service.

"Good, have some breakfast."

John sat down to enjoy his meal,

"Thanks."

Sherlock smiled a small grin of thanks and was going through the vacation packet they received yesterday, there were so many handouts, booklets and pamphlets with deals and offers, it was almost overwhelming.

"What are you doing?"

"Deciding what we should do today."

"Aren't we going to investigate or at least try to find some of the drug lords on this boat?"

"That's the main plan."

John watched Sherlock go through and read over the papers, with a few questions wondering around in his mind, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Sherlock?"

"Hm?"

"We, **can't** be the only ones on this ship."

"Obviously."

"No, I mean, are we truly the only ones that are going to bust a drug trade ring, all on our own?"

"John, your ambition is inspiring… and cute."

"Would you just-!" John blistered

"No, John, we're not alone, Mycroft and Lestrade have their people here, somewhere on this boat, but it's best that we don't make contact with them, unless absolutely necessary."

"So, how are we going to… catch them, the baddies?"

"We'll deal with that when the time comes."

"Oh."

Sherlock paused in his paper shuffling, organizing the interesting flyers in one pile; he looked at John with wariness.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, trying to read the doctors mind.

"That's not your ordinary acceptable 'oh', explain."

"-sigh- No, it's an 'oh', as in, 'Oh, so we're just making it up as we go along' type of 'oh'."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

A silence went between them as John finished his breakfast and Sherlock was shuffling the papers, he leaned back suddenly, getting John's attention.

"What?"

"If I may borrow your average intellect for a second?"

"What do you want?" John deadpanned.

"If this were a real vacation for you, what would you do on the second day?"

"Well, I would… relax, you know, take it easy and enjoy the day, maybe get a massage, or a drink…why?"

Sherlock grinned at John's answer

"Sometimes, I do treasure the simplicity that is your mind."

"Simplicity?"

"Yes, simplicity. We are going to the spa today, to relax and do a little reconnaissance on these 'baddies', as you so called them."

"Sherlock, there are four spas on this ship, we don't even know which one they would go to, if they did go."

"Not true, they would go to the most expensive of spas, two floors down, exclusive to those staying at Palace Atlantis and Luminous Lagoon."

"And why would they go to the most expensive of spas?"

"Simple, these are the type of people that love to show their money, no matter how they got it, they will flaunt it. So it is likely that they are booked in the most expensive of rooms on this cruise and will mostly likely use the most expensive of spas to treat themselves or treat their lover they brought with them."

"You heard your self use a cliché, right?" the doctor giggled

"Shut up."

"So, where going to go to the spa then?"

"Yes, how does that sound?"

"Sounds nice, even if it is reconnaissance, I'll take what I can get."

"That's the spirit!"

"Wait, hang on, now… if this was your second day of vacation, what would **you** do?"

"I can never go on vacation, my mind would to deteriorate with no stimuli."

"But, hypothetically, what would you do?"

Sherlock didn't give it a second thought,

"Masturbate." He said bluntly, making John choke on his saliva.

"What?!"

"Yeah, I'd masturbate all day long, getting off on what ever came to mind and cum so hard, I'd pass out, wake up and continue where I left off."

"Never mind I asked." John mumbled, feeling flustered.

"I'm only joking John, no, I'd go skinny dipping." Sherlock grinned at him.

~ The Spa ~

The exclusive spa entrance was a simple kind of tropical elegance, with a petite woman with platinum blond hair and dressed professionally, at the reception desk. Sherlock and John were dressed casually, with your average shirt and trousers for John and shorts for Sherlock, as they greeted the small lady.

"Good morning Gentleman, and Welcome to The Stardust Island Spa, an Opulent Retreat on these fine blue seas. How may I help you?"

"Are there any vacancies at the moment, we really wanted to squeeze in some romantic relaxation but I wasn't so sure if I had to reserve some time first." The brunette asked

"Normally, you would have to reserve some time, however our 10:15 cancelled on us, so you two are in luck, there's an opening with Julio. When things like this happen, its usually first come first served, no pun intended."

"Sign us up." George told the lady and she got a nearby clipboard,

"Alright, if I can have your names and room number, we'll charge the service to your room."

"Ash and George McGillis, room 3PA."

"A suite in Palace Atlantis, fancy, those are the best rooms, with out a doubt. Ok, now, how can we help you relax."

"Well, I was going through the pamphlet, with your specials and I like this romance treatment but I wanted to know, can I trade the Rose Sugar Facial for this Coconut Scalp Scrub?"

"As long as you want the Wine Bath, the Honey and Lemon oil massage and the Hot Stone Therapy treatment, then the Coconut Scrub is not a problem."

"Oh its brilliant! What do you say George, should we get it?"

"Whatever you want, dearest."

Ash kissed him, and then smiled warmly at the dirty blond.

"We'll take that one." Declared Ash

"Ok, I'll put in the order and call Julio."

Julio, a tanned man who was clearly Brazilian and had a lean beefy build and a baldhead, soon serviced them. They were instructed that before they could get any of their spa treatment, they must detox in the sauna for thirty minutes, from there, they will be guided to take a quick cleansing shower with a mild soap to wash, then they can proceed with their spa therapy. John and Sherlock were guided to change in the locker room available, stripping down to nothing but a towel covering their essential parts and were soon in one of the sauna rooms, with heavy stream fogging up their vision. Although there were other male couples and surprisingly, one female couple, they mostly kept to themselves, reveling in the moist humid environment, Sherlock and John found a space to sit back, away from the other couples and relaxed. Each man feeling the sweat forming on their skin and getting used to the heat of the room, they each went into their own thoughts.

According to John, as easy was it was to act like George, it was starting to affect his personal feelings for Sherlock. Yes, Sherlock Holmes will always be his best friend, no matter what, but he was struggling with an internal fight between finding Sherlock attractive as a friend and finding him attractive as something more was confusing. These thoughts also fought with his idea of his own sexuality, he thought he found women attractive, but now, he just didn't know, maybe it was this case, making them do things normal friends wouldn't do and spending more time together. He eventually dismissed these ideas, they were too much to think though and solve, when he should just relax, of course it didn't help that Sherlock was sweaty and nude under his towel.

Sherlock was on the verge of thinking similarly to how he felt about John but, once again, put those thoughts away. He was doing his job, not trying to romance his best and only friend. Of course he couldn't help but observe the man sitting near him, with glistening sweaty skin, a few shades warmer than his own, that dirty blond hair damp from the steam and some sweat. John's build wasn't as muscular as some of the men they've seen on this cruise but he did have muscle. His build was a subtle type of muscle and strength, yes, the military time his body had endured was apparent without a shirt on but was also hidden in his clothing, a secret strength of an undercover agent. Since Sherlock was sitting on John's left side, he also observed the scar on his shoulder, with the rosy tanned coloring that was a combination of John's skin tone and scar tissue, in a circle formation from where the bullet entered and left the doctors body, Sherlock was softly intrigued by it, and nudged John.

"What?" he asked softly, giving Sherlock his attention.

"Your scar…" Sherlock matched his volume

"What about it?" John felt self-conscious.

""I've never seen it before."

That's right, John's never shown Sherlock his war wound, the detective has only deduced he had one and John confirmed it but never shown it to him, until now. Sherlock was studying the scar, unaware that he was getting close to John, but the doctor noticed, unsure of what to do.

"Can I touch it?"

That little question sounded far too intimate to John's ears and hesitated to answer.

"I don't-I don't think you shou-"

"Jo-George, have you shown anyone your scar?"

"Only the doctors that worked on it, no one else."

John, since getting the wound has felt just a little damaged, like broken toy in his most vulnerable of times.

"So, that makes me special."

John grinned

"Can I please touch it?"

John couldn't resist, there was something in him that wanted to cherish this intimacy and wanted it to happen

"Sure." The doctor turned his back on Sherlock and soon felt dexterous long fingers, exploring the scar and skin. The detective's fingers played lightly over the scar, feeling the small ridges, the curves, the faint dips from where the bullet exited the doctor's body. John shuddered slightly, trying to disguise it but Sherlock noticed and kept a mental note of it, 'Was Dr. Watson ticklish?' An idea ran through the brunette's mind but it would be too inappropriate with this level of intimacy.

"I'll be the first one to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Your scar looks like a rose in bloom."

John gasped softly, not expecting that comparison or the small kiss Sherlock gave his scar. It was beginning to be too much for the dirty blond, the little sting in his eyes confirming potential tears, which he blamed on the sauna rooms conditions. Blinking back the glossiness, he turned to face the taller man, trying to read his face, but they held a mask of quiet observation, John tried reading those ice blue eyes, looking for something he wasn't even sure of. One thing did stand out in John's mind, and in Sherlock's but he would deny it if asked, was that this started a soft shift in their friendship dynamic. Sherlock looked away from John's searching gaze, trying to shift the mood.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright… the masseuse is going to touch it when I have the massage, so… it's good practice."

They wanted to speak but were called by Julio, had a quick shower to wash off the steam and sweat and were guided to a public area, where the only amount of privacy was given by hanging curtains. Julio showed them their curtain room, containing two massage tables and two large classic porcelain bath tubs, each on filled with steaming water infused with red wine, which made the water a delicate pink. They each got in to their own table and just melted into the water, letting the relaxing warmth soak in their pores and envelop their bodies, Sherlock sighed out loud, while John let out a low

"Oh my God…"

"This is heavenly."

"In ten minutes gentlemen, I will be back with a colleague of mine for your Coconut Scalp Scrubs." Julio left them, to luxuriate in the bath.

Although the bath was relaxing, Sherlock was slyly peering through the parts of open curtain, trying to observe the other spa guest.

"George."

"Yes dear?" John was a bit startled at how natural that was.

"Isn't this place just, -sigh-, I think we should get our own spa, you know, fix up a couple of the rooms, one for a sauna and the other just for this, it's a delicious sin."

The whole time Sherlock was talking to John, he was motioning for the doctor to look around and observe what he can in the area.

"As soon as we get home." John nodded in understanding and observed as well.

They watched through the open areas, seeing the occasional passing sandal feet, walking or just standing with the attached voice, talking about nonsense. One thing did catch their eyes, there was a man, standing just outside their curtain talking to another man in a different language, but Sherlock and John only saw the tattoo on his right calf. The heavily black inked tattoo with intricate lines and designs was a cross between a tribal tattoo and a message in the man's native language. Sherlock was putting the image of the tattoo in his mind while John was trying to read and memorize what it said. Sherlock knew the tattoo was associated with one of the drug associations on the ship. John looked over at Sherlock with an expression of 'You're seeing this, right?', the brunette nodded his affirmation.

Eventually the man left and soon Julio and his colleague, Dominic, a short Irish man with Caesar hair, came in their curtain room and began the Coconut Scalp Scrub. John didn't have much hair, so he felt the felt fingers massage the scrub into his scalp and forgot to think, he just lived in the serene moment. Sherlock felt fingers in his hair, kneading the scrub and its aroma into his scalp and nearly moaned. He never fully realized just how sensitive his scalp was until now, trying to enjoy this treatment but also trying not to become visibly turned on. It couldn't be helped, the masseuse, Julio was using those talents digits in so many right places, Sherlock was softly panting, trying to calm himself, fighting himself in wishing for this sublime torture to end. After a good ten minutes of sweet torment, both masseuses left them again, mentioning that they were retrieving the equipment for their rub down and hot stone therapy. When they left, John gave Sherlock a look of incredulity, at hearing and seeing Sherlock out of his peripheral vision,

"Are you…aroused?"

"Yeah, well… I'm trying to… cool my self down. I've never realized… that my scalp was so… delicate." Sherlock breathed out.

John, to his astonishment, found him self-feeling some jealousy towards the masseuse, Julio, who worked on Sherlock's hair and scalp, which only made him wonder, 'Why?', but he knew, he knew. Both Julio and Dominic came back and Sherlock and John got the rest of their massage, relishing the oil and kneading on their back along with the hot stones placed along their spines and strategic muscles to relax them. After their session, they went to the lockers, feeling refreshed, started to put on their clothes, when Sherlock received a text, from Ash's phone, which also got John's attention. Sherlock read the text, with a small grin on his face.

"George, it seems as though we've been invited to dinner tonight." He showed John the text, they main drug lord has made contact.

"Where?"

"At the Mermaid Bistro Del Mar."

~ The Dinner ~

Sherlock and John found the restaurant, a high class dinning area, with intricate wood carved furniture and rich ocean colors, it was reminiscent of an opera theatre. They were dressed in the outfits similar to when they first got on the ship; only John lacked the overcoat, fedora and silk scarf. They approached the host, stating that they were part of the Garretson party and were escorted to a private dining area, there were some men already seated at the large table when Sherlock and John were guided to their own seats, two seats to the right and down from the head of the table. Some of the men were recognizable from their pictures and some of the men they've seen earlier, during and after their massage, when they went exploring around the ship, hand in hand. After they sat down, other men, some couples, mostly singles were coming and being seated until the only the head table seat was left. Soon, they saw the man responsible for gathering them all for dinner followed by two bodyguards, a tall man, taller than Sherlock by some centimeters, with a designer black suit, white shirt and dark red tie, with clean cut angular face, dull brown eyes and slicked back brown hair. He stood in front of his seat, ready to greet the motely crew of guest.

"Evening Gentleman, I am Garretson, known mostly by reputation." He had an American accent

Some of the men said their own greetings, while the majority just nodded their acknowledgement, he continued.

"We all know why we are here on this ship, some of us are well known through word of mouth and others by name. Tonight I plan on minimal business talk, but business will be discussed at a later date on this cruise, as for now, let us enjoy a luxurious dinner, on me." He sat down, motioning for one of his guards to grab a waiter's attention. There were sixteen men sitting and having dinner, including Sherlock and John, chatting, some making small talk and others were very talkative, Sherlock unnaturally so. They spoke mostly about the cruise so far and some of the upcoming events on the ship, John spoke when he could and needed to, but was hiding his anxiety with the company and seeing Sherlock talk so much out of character. Mostly, his anxiety was with this Garretson and how he seemed to show interest in Sherlock as Ash, those dull eyes would focus in, on the brunette with a glint John couldn't identify and didn't like. Dinner was soon over with Garretson in a pleasant mood at a story one of the drug men there had told and called for attention.

"Gentlemen, I hope your dinner was spectacular and now for some small business, we are here as dealers and distributors, and I'm not asking you to identify your role, but you may give your name. All I ask is that we continue to do our business through our secret means for now, when we gather again on this ship, further trade discussions and new subject matter will our topic. You are all free to go or you can join me at Moon Glow Cove, for some gambling."

Sherlock and John, along with about nine other men joined Garretson at the place to play poker at the tables. John was actually playing while Sherlock stood close by him, watching his hands and also eyeing the nearby dance club, with the dull thumps of the music catching his ears. Drinks were served and they played a few hands already, some men lost and left, most stayed and continued to play.

"You a gambling man, George?" Garretson asked

"Yeah, bit of a bad habit but sometimes it's worth the risk."

"George, I'm going to go dance, it's calling out to me, can I go?" Sherlock asked

"What do you say?"

"Can I go, Sir?" the brunette flirted

"Go."

Sherlock kissed him a quick thanks and left, John watched him leave but also noticed that Garretson was watching Sherlock's ass as he walked away, John felt some anxiety but mostly jealousy, which slightly stunned him, again. Garretson turned back around to focus on his hands.

"Talk about taking a risk."

"What do you mean?"

The man smirked, observing his cards and threw away two of them.

"You're going to let that fine piece of ass, go shake his shit out on the dance floor, alone? Some asshole could try and stake their claim on him, aren't you worried?"

"No, Ash is devoted to me, he isn't easily seduced."

"Has anyone tried?"

"No."

"I think you mean 'not yet'." He grinned in a foul manner

John smirked as George but was finding himself growing not only jealous but also angry with this man. He slowly lost the next few rounds on purpose and excused himself from the table to find Sherlock in the dance club.  
It was difficult to try and look for the detective in the dark place, with the loud music and flashing lights in every direction. John did find him, near the back laughing and drinking with two other blokes, sitting on some indigo velvet couches, he felt some jealousy, again, thinking about Garretson's words and approached them.

"Oh, George, you're here, good, I want you to meet my new friends, Markel and Rex, they're boyfriends on their first romantic trip together."

"Nice to meet you."

Both men were fashionably dressed to party and were tanned, Rex was by far more tanned and they displayed that they were very much in love. Markel was slim and petite compared to Rex, who was taller with a lean muscle build. John joined them, sitting near Sherlock and they chatted, the music thumping in their blood, drinks were downed, shots taken and Sherlock was much more vocal and jovial about the club, whether his behavior was under the influence of alcohol or just an act, John couldn't tell anymore.

"C'mon, Geooorrge! Let's go dance!" Ash whined and pulled John with him to the dance floor, within the crowd of gyrating bodies. Sherlock and John danced, close, very close, bodies moving together to the beat of the music, against each other, Sherlock surprising John with very seductive moves involving his ass against John's crotch and the occasional cloth covered grinding of their crotches together, every now and then. There was a moment were John felt and saw everything in slow motion, which bewildered him but was soon forgotten when he watched Sherlock dance, that tall slim body moved rhythmically, displaying his long neck when he tossed his head to the side, dark brown curls swaying, but most of all his face. John was captivated by Sherlock's face, eyes closed, cheeks flushed from drinking and his smile, that gorgeous smile, so bright in the darkness of the club with the lights flashing several colors all around, having no distracting effect on how John saw Sherlock. For a second, Sherlock saw the way John was gazing at him and felt his heart skip a beat but ignored it and but continued dancing with John, which knocked him out of his reverie, but every time they caught each other's eyes, the slow shift in their dynamic accelerated a bit faster. John was falling, for his best friend, he knew it but wasn't sure if he could or even wanted to stop it.

~ After the club~

They were soon on their way back to the suite, with John carrying half of Sherlock's intoxicated weight, while the tall brunette was having a giggle fit. They ran into Concierge Dalton, in which Sherlock proceeded to slightly harass him.

"Oh, Dalton."

"Mr. McGillis."

Sherlock stumbled over to him, grabbing his face in his hands, observing him with amusement.

"Your face… is so cute, how have I not noticed before? You're adorable. George! Can we keep him?"

Sherlock soon held the man close to him, tucking him under his chin and patting his head, John felt embarrassed for him.

"No."

"As a pet, I promise I'll take very good care of him, please?!"

"No dear, we cannot keep him as a pet, let him go."

"But Geooooorrrrrggeuh!"

"Ash, let the man go."

Sherlock reluctantly released Dalton, letting him fix himself to be presentable again. John maneuvered Sherlock towards their suite, giving the Concierge a smile of apology, all the while Sherlock was muttering.

"He's adorable, like a small dog you can pet but its not yours, so you don't have to worry about it, isn't he adorable George?"

"Yeah, a real basket of puppies."

In their suite, they both got ready for bed, Sherlock insisting that they both sleep in their pants, but John also wore a shirt, which made the brunette scowl a bit. Sherlock got into the bed first, feeling light headed, he tried blinking the world straight but it spun a bit anyway, putting a hand to his eyes, covering them.

"Jawn!"

"What?" the dirty blond called out from the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste.

"I'm drunk."

"Brilliant deduction."

Sherlock pouted.

Soon, John got in bed as well and turned off the light on the nightstand.

"Can we cuddle?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

They moved closer, getting comfortable with Sherlock tucking his head under John's chin, arms embracing each other and finally relaxing and letting sleep take over. Even though this under cover case has probably been the most stressful one John has ever been on, he's never felt so at ease and calm, as he did with Sherlock sleeping in his arms.

**Author's Note:** Argh, this chapter took forever to write, but yay, its done. You've probably become painfully aware that I lack skills in writing drug/business/bad guy dialogue, but I'm saving it for later and it will be better. The dance club scene, you can imagine whatever dance song you want but I was influenced by had The Wanted's I Found You song. Thanks for your patience, you readers are an awesome bunch, review if you want.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they all belong to their respective creators.

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

With a sleep-fogged brain, trying to clear itself, John woke up to Sherlock giggling softly and for the life of him, could not figure out why, but smiled contently. As he became more alert, he felt his lips against Sherlock's neck, near the brunette's ear and quickly removed himself near him and the bed to fully wake up, in the bathroom. When he came out, he saw Sherlock awake, shaking his sleep tossed curly hair and giving John a drowsy smile as he went into the bathroom to wake up as well. When the detective came out, he found John lounging on the couch in the sitting room, with breakfast ready for the both of them. Sherlock joined him, only taking a bagel,

"Don't eat so much, we've been invited to brunch."

"What? When?"

"Last night, I got a text from Charles and Vern, they invited us to brunch today and I've asked them if we could invite Markel and Rex, they've agreed and now we're all going to brunch."

"What time?"

"10:30."

"Ok."

Sherlock stopped his eating, eyes moving here and there, thinking.

"Something isn't right."

John rolled his eyes, thinking 'now you notice?'

"Your average couple can't be this 'happy' on their honeymoon."

"Your average couple would be having sex constantly on their honeymoon, no room for quarreling."

Sherlock gave him a sidelong glance with an elegant arch in his eyebrows, making the doctor register what he just said and blush, looking away.

"Never mind."

"No John, you're on to something."

"Nope, we are not having sex."

It was Sherlock's turn to roll his eyes,

"No, about the quarreling, we need to fight, it can't be all honey and roses. No, we need to have a disagreement, something that Ash and George can be stubborn about, today is…?"

"It's Monday."

"Perfect, there's a couples karaoke contest going on today, we'll fight about that."

"We're going to fight about, karaoke?"

"Yes, Ash wants to join the contest and George doesn't, it's brilliant."

"Hold on, what's the purpose of this 'fight', why even have it?"

"It's not 'why' but 'whom'."

"Um, man of average intelligence with a study in medicine here, wants to know what do you mean by 'whom'?"

"For the four people we're having brunch with, it'll give us something to talk about, while trying to do some surveillance. We've already identified the main criminals and seen them in person, a good majority of these criminals are likely to party late and eat brunch, than wake up early for breakfast."

John gave him a skeptical look

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"I really have trained you well, haven't I?"

"Sherlock."

"There was a young man at the club last night, he was obviously drunk and far too loud, bragging about how money he has and being a general nuisance, but he was passing these out."

He handed John an empty pill packet, containing six open slots; John was examining it.

"I only managed to pick up an empty one up from the floor, but there were people in the club that took these. The young man was dragged out of the club by Garretson's men, he's Garretson's pet, main squeeze, sex toy, fuck buddy."

"Ok, enough, I get it. So, is Garretson the new drug supplier? The new drug that we know nothing about?"

"Yes."

"But, what does that have to do with?... You overheard him talk about going to brunch this morning."

"The man has no indoor voice."

"Then, why lie about Charles and Vern inviting us to lunch, when it was **you** who invited them and arranged everything?"

Sherlock grinned a proudly at the John, which made the doctor's heart skip a beat.

"Glad you caught on so quickly, wanted to see if your wits were still about you. What better way to do some investigating than a lovely brunch with some friends?"

"And the fighting?"

"A trivial topic of discussion for trivial people."

~ At Brunch~

They all met at the restaurant called the Mirage Scale Bistro, making introductions between all of them, with the two other couples clearly noticing that Ash and George were tense and bitter when conversing with each other. They were given a table, which Ash and George sat opposite of each other while the two other couples sat with their partner. Going through the menus, George would make a small comment and Ash would snark at him and vice versa, causing some tension and a bit of irritation at their table.

"Alright, out with it, what happened?" asked Markel

"Trouble in paradise?" Charles mentioned.

"My husband, **George**, has no sense of adventure." Ash narrowed his eyes at said man.

"I have a perfect sense of adventure, its public humiliation that I have a problem with."

"How is it humiliating?"

"Because I can't sing and you want a duet!"

"A duet?" said Rex

"Care to enlighten the rest of us?" asked Charles

Ash leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with attitude.

"George refuses to join the karaoke contest, for fear of public embarrassment."

"You all understand, I can't sing to save baby animals and I don't want to put everyone on this ship through that kind of torture."

"**Of course**, you all must understand that I don't care what other people think of us, as long as we are together, having fun and singing. I don't care if we win or lose, I just want to sing with you." Ash argued.

"How can we sing when I keep telling you that, I can't sing for shit!"

"-Gasp!- You're getting vulgar with me now?"

"Ok, girls, enough squabbling, I think we all know how to solve this." Charles smirked

"If its what I think it is, then I whole heartily agree." Markel concurred

"Agree on what?"

"Angry make up sex." Chimed in Markel and Charles

"In a closet." Added Vern with Charles motioning an agreement on what his man said.

"Angry closet make up sex?"

John looked questionably at Sherlock, but the detective was in peeved Ash mode, looking away still with an attitude.

"If he doesn't want to sing with me, why would he want to be stuck in a closet with me? He didn't even touch me last night, let alone this morning."

A scandalous gasp went through the table, the loudest one coming from Markel.

"You were drunk and not in to right mind set for sex."

"You could've just given me head."

"No, I did not want to have sex under dubious consent."

"What's so dubious about it? Its oral sex?!"

"Its still sex!"

"Alright, I've had enough. I don't like that you two are fighting over something so ridiculous. Not when you two have so much going for you as a couple." Charles intervened.

"I'm throwing you two into the first empty closet we find, after brunch." Markel declared.

They continued with the rest of brunch, with Sherlock and John keeping an eye on Garretson and his pet. Sherlock was reading the pet's lips as he conversed with the dull-eyed man. Every now and then, John caught Garretson ogling Sherlock when the detective as Ash wasn't noticing, but Sherlock noticed everything. When brunch finished, the four other men, mainly Charles and Markel, where trying to find a closet for Ash and George and eventually succeeded, throwing the couple in there and closing the door.

"You two are not coming out until I hear angry fucking. Go!" Markel shouted through the door.

So, there they were, John and Sherlock in a dark, cramped, linen closet, stuck until they had sex.

"What are we going to do?!" John whispered hurriedly, pressed against Sherlock closely.

"Here, we'll, um, muss up your clothes. Mine as well." The brunette whispered back.

They rumpled their clothes, with Sherlock going the extra length to help John, but the doctor smacked his hands away. Their clothes felt and looked tousled, with the both of them adjusting their vision in the dark but Sherlock wasn't satisfied.

"No…looking like this isn't enough to fake post orgasmic bliss… no, we need to-!"

"Sherlock, I've said it before, we are **not** having sex!"

"Yeah, you and your boring repetition. It needs to look like we did though, so I need you to mark me, make it seem like you're the one in charge. Mmm George." the detective said the last part loud enough to be heard through the door

"Mark you?" John then groaned at the same volume as Sherlock, following his lead.

"Enough of your questions."

Sherlock kissed him, capturing the doctor's mouth and searching for tongue, which wasn't hard to find since John was whole-heartily participating this time. Their hands were roaming putting more emphasis for a tousled appearance, a hot meeting of their wrestling tongues, breathing in each other's exhales and moaning with the purpose to convince their outside audience.

"Mmm, yes George."

"You like that?"

"Ah."

They continued kissing, breaking it to moan, groan or sigh in pleasure and went back to kissing.

"Yes." Sherlock breathed out

"You like that Ash baby?"

-Smooch-

"Yes Sir!"

"Yeah, I bet you do."

-Kiss-

"Ah!"

"Yeah, you want my hard cock in your arse, huh?"

"Mmm…?"

Sherlock stopped the kissing, giving John a glare even though it was dark.

"What are you doing?" the brunette whispered aggressively

"I'm… trying to make it seem like we're, you know, sexing it up." The doctor whispered back.

"John, I want realism, not pornography, get it right!"

The dirty blond was already frustrated, physically because of this make out session plus the sounds coming out of Sherlock's mouth and now, he was being criticized on his dirty talk, he pierced his lips together, mind made up.

"Fine!"

John went for Sherlock's neck; in an attack that the detective wasn't expecting but secretly glad for. John kissed, licked and sucked at that neck, marking behind the ear and moving lower, nipping along the way and sucking at the hollow in Sherlock's neck. At this point, Sherlock continued his lustful sounds, with the help of the doctor's hands in his hair, bring out real sounds of pleasure. John joining in every now and then but soon, the detective started to use his elbow to pound against the wall, slowly building up a speed, giving their audience outside, the impression of their fucking.

Outside the closet, stood Charles, Markel and Rex, Vern decided to go back to his room. The three men kept an eye out for any house keeping or any body but keep their ears open on the sounds coming from inside the closet.

"Wow, they're really going at it, aren't they?" Charles commented

"Angry sex is the answer to any couple's problems." Replied Markel.

Along with the rhythmic pounding, they heard a muffled,

"Ah, fuck!"

Followed by a desperate moan, noticing that the pounding tempo was increasing in speed.

"Makes you wonder though." Said Rex

"Wonder what?" Markel asked.

"Who's trying to convince who?"

"I bet that Ash is convincing George to sing with him." Said Markel

"I don't know, sounds like George is working some kind of magic on him." Input Charles.

Inside the closet, the temperature and pace of their ministrations increased, Sherlock and John were both sweaty, with the dirty blond alternating between intense kisses to the brunette's lips, tongue and all, and assaulting his neck with equal vigor. John's fingers in Sherlock's hair massaging his scalp and fondling, made it some what challenging for the detective to keep focus on who's name he should call out instead of who's name he wanted to call out. Arousal grew between them, both feeling each other's hardness, trying to ignore the friction between them and still putting up the act of having sex with the constant kissing and necking, it was difficult for them, to say the least. The pounding of Sherlock's elbow against the wall increased even more along with the volume of their passionate cries, indicating that they were close to a pseudo orgasm.

"Ah! Yes! Jo-George!"

-Kiss-

"Mm, yeah! Fuck yes!"

-Lick-

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Ash!"

-Suck-

"I'm so close!"

"Come for me, Ash!"

-Bite-

"Ahhh!"

John bit into Sherlock's neck, which was surprisingly erotic for the both of them, making the detective cry out loud in real pleasure.

Outside the closet, their audience of three heard the loud last part of their climax and then nothing.

"Maybe we should check on them, see if their ok?" mentioned Markel

"No, give them a minute, they'll be fine." Replied Charles.

Inside the closet, John was leaning against Sherlock, slightly out of breath and mouth feeling some soreness from molesting the brunette's neck and mouth, Sherlock's lips were in a similar state, trying to catch his breath as well.

"Sherlock, we, um… have a problem."

"Hm, what?"

"We have a similar problem."

John barely nudged his erection against the detective but still made Sherlock shudder in silent pleasure.

"Oh right, problem. Didn't know you had it in you."

"You wanted realism."

They were silent for a moment until John didn't feel Sherlock's hardness anymore; it left him bewildered.

"H-how did you-?"

"I thought of Lestrade and Mycroft having sex."

John blanched.

"Oh God no, I did not need that image, I did **not** need that image."

"But it worked, right?"

John then realized that his penis was, indeed, flaccid.

"Are you making that up or are they really together?"

"No its true, I caught them kissing actually, but the way they were snogging implied sex, so…"

"So Lestrade is shagging your brother."

"Yeah."

"And they played it off so well when they gave us the assignment… Wait a minute, if you knew, how come you've never tol-?!"

"C'mon, our friends are waiting for us, ready?"

John sighed a bit in defeat

"Yeah, ready."

George and Ash stepped out of the linen closet, clothes disheveled, lips swollen, angry red marks appearing on Ash's neck, George smirking in satisfaction and Ash grinning in equal gratification.

"Well, have you two agreed on anything?" Charles asked.

"Yeah, Ash dear, what song do you want to sing?" George asked, putting an arm around Ash's waist.

"Let's see what they have to offer."

~ After the Karaoke Contest ~

Ash and George sang at the Karaoke Contest, although they didn't win they still had fun. Their cruise friends cheering them on in the audience and slightly cringing when George sang his part, taking into account of what the short man told them earlier, he really couldn't sing. After the loud applause for taking the stage and being greeted by their friend's and other's cheers, Sherlock spied the pet of Garretson signing his name on a clip board, talking to a ship activity associate and soon leaving. The brunette made his way to the associate; bringing Markel with him and leaving John to be praised for his bravery by Charles, Rex and Vern.

"You sang her part very well, are you a Cher impersonator?"

"No but she's fabulous, um what's this for?"

"Oh, are you gentlemen interested in entering a talent show tonight? First prize receives some exclusive gifts along with a crown and title of most talented on this cruise, their picture taken with the captain and displayed on our website. We have two more openings. Starts at eight."

"Just one question, will there be certain dancing accommodations?"

Ash gave him an innocent look but the associate knew exactly what the brunette meant.

"They can be arranged."

"Good, I'll sign up." Sherlock signed his name, Ash McGillis.

"And you sir?"

"No, my talent is for the bed room." Replied Markel.

Sherlock finished with the talent show sign up, walking towards the small crowd-surrounding john but he whispered quickly to Markel.

"I need a favor from you, if you don't mind."

"What?"

"I want to surprise George with my talent, so if you can say that you're the one entering the talent show, we'll be there in the audience to see you and?"

"Not another word, I'll do it."

"Thank you so much Markel."

~ In their Suite ~

Sherlock and John were freshening up, getting ready to go to the talent show Markel, as far as John knew, was in. Sherlock didn't want to tell the doctor because he really did want to surprise him. Both men were wearing black designer suits, John with a dark blue dress shirt and Sherlock with a white dress shirt.

John was thinking about their earlier endeavor in the linen closet, how highly erotic it was and how it should have been his own name the detective should have called out. The flash backs of dark images of the brunette, flushed, panting, filling the air with sounds of lust, in the tight space of the closet. The doctor was also recalling how good it felt being so close the detective, feeling that slender body, legs, waist, chest, back, neck, head, everything about the taller man felt good and right with John which only confused him more about his growing feelings for the genius. John still had an inkling that he was attracted to women, considering some of the few women on this cruise caught his eye, but his growing attraction for his best friend began to out weigh that, it felt deeper than a crush. He decided to save the thinking for later, since these feeling also brought him some bitterness for his confusion.

"So, Garretson's pet's name is Trevor?" John asked from the bed.

"Trevor McElroy, yes."

Sherlock was fixing his hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

"And he signed up for this talent show that Markel signed up for?"

"Yes."

"So, we're doing more reconnaissance?"

"Yeah."

"On Garretson?"

"Considering his pet is involved? Yes."

"I don't like it."

"Don't like what?"

"I've seen that man far too many times today, its like he's everywhere. And I don't like the way he looks at you, as if you're some type of prize or dessert."

Sherlock stopped styling his hair, looking over at the dirty blond.

"John, are you… jealous of Garretson?"

"**No**. The man is disturbing and all I'm saying is that I don't like the way he looks at you, I'm sure you've noticed."

"I've noticed, yeah. Although, there were times were I thought about going down the route of flirting with him to access information."

"That's a horrible idea… you haven't, have you?"

"What? Flirted with him? Of course not, the man disturbs me as well."

John grinned in relief, glad that Sherlock had no contact with the man than what was necessary, the upcoming meeting with all the drug lords again. They continued discussing about the their time at lunch and the day before, information being exchanged and analyzed in Sherlock's brilliant mind, until it was time to go. What startled the detective was the small sensation of butterflies in his stomach, was he nervous?

~ At the Theatre ~

The ships theatre was very elegant, a crystal chandelier from the top of the ceiling, the stage with red curtains and ivy carvings in gold. The stage it self was a unique shape, extending out to catwalk runways on both the left and right side but looking like a normal stage in the middle. There were round tables, covered in white tablecloths with surrounding luxurious chairs, cushion with matching fabric of the stage curtains. John and Sherlock were seated at one of the tables when the lights dimmed and the master of ceremonies began the show. There were quite a bit of talented people on board this cruise, some men were signing, dressed normally or in drag, some men were displaying their comedy skills and others danced, ranging from your average break dancing, to waacking, vogue-ing. The current contestant was singing when Markel approached their table

"George, can I borrow Ash? I need a second opinion on my choice of outfit for this and I really want to win."

"Yeah, sure, go on."

Ash left with Markel, heading towards the back stage door,

"Does he know what he's in for?" Markel asked

"No idea." Ash snickered.

Back stage, Markel wished Sherlock luck and left to go back into the crowd of people. The detective spoke with the manager in charge of this talent show to secure his 'on stage' prop and his music when he performed and found his two other props waiting for him to put them on. When he finished, he sat in front of a well light mirror, dusting his face with some powder to match his complexion and trying to calm his inner nerves, something so trivial of what he was about to do shouldn't affect him this much, but it did. Was it because John was in the audience? He didn't have much time to dwell on that because Trevor, Garretson' pet, sat beside him in the next mirror.

"You're right after me aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Nervous?"

"Oh yeah."

"Here"

Trevor handed him the six-pill packet, filled with six little blue pills.

"What's this?"

"Blue Krill, to help you with your nerves. One pill relaxes; two pills leaves you feeling good, three pills excite and four pills send you to another world."

"What about taking all six?"

"Six pills will send you some where but I wouldn't recommend that. Take three, to enhance your performance."

"Is it like ecstasy?"

"Similar, but much more fun for bed room activities

Sherlock popped out three of the Blue Krill pills and took them; the other three were given to some other man wanting them. Another man came up to Trevor asking for some more pills.

"I don't have any more on me, go to my room later and I'll give you some more packets."

"Palace Atlantis, right?"

"No, that prick Garretson kicked me out. I can't believe he actually got a spare room to send me to when I'm on my 'bad behavior' or some shit like that. Can you believe that?"

"Scandalous." Sherlock added

"Exactly! Well, now I'm in room TI 64."

"Turtle Island? That's a large drop from luxury to the slums." Said the other man

"I know, right?"

The stage manager called out for Trevor to perform, leaving Sherlock to stare at his reflection and wonder how those three little pills were going to affect him.

John was watching the performances but was also keeping an eye out for Sherlock; the man was taking a long time helping Markel. During his occasional searches for Sherlock, he saw Garretson sitting at another table in the back and felt relieved that the detective wasn't sitting with the vile man. The master of ceremonies made a quick introduction of the next contestant when John heard the name,

"Ash McGillis!"

He turned his attention towards the stage, watching the curtains go up, with the only difference on the stage being the addition of a stripper pole. The doctor's only reaction at the moment was,

"Oh no, no way, no fucking way." He mumbled

The music started, a dark sensual beat and Sherlock stepped out, strutting the stage, heading towards the left catwalk runway. He was wearing the same clothes, although John noticed some thing different about him he couldn't identify, he seemed taller and eventually saw it, the brunette on stage was strutting in heels, black high heels, walking that catwalk like a boss in those pumps. Sherlock stopped near the edge of the catwalk, posed and walked back towards the stage, heading for the right catwalk runway. Sherlock strutted that catwalk too, taking off his suit coat and hanging on to it, over his shoulder, posing near the edge and making his way back to center stage. Sherlock's face never cracked a smile or any type of expression other than stoic seduction and sexy silent confidence. The man on stage threw his coat to the side and started to work on his dress shirt buttons, swaying his hips sensual music. Once the buttons were undone, he took off the shirt, swung it over his head and threw it to the side, only left in his suit trousers and approached the pole.

Sherlock grabbed the pole with both of his hands, rotating his head back displaying his long neck, moving his body in a similar fashion. He then kept one hand enclosed on the pole as he walked around it and stopped in front, facing the audience. To John's surprise and to the amusement of the audience, he dropped it low, in those heel and slowly got up again with his ass against the pole, turned around, back facing the audience, shook his ass a bit and ripped off his suit trousers, revealing glittering black boy shorts. All of John's attention was focused on Sherlock, nearly nude except for those damned shorts and heels, moving along with the music, dancing against the pole.

John also noticed Sherlock's facial expression had changed some what from his previous stoic seduction full out lustful faces including some flirtatious winking, the subtle biting of his lower lip and every now and then an 'O' face, as if the pole was some kind of invisible lover, the detective even licked the pole at one point. Although the audience around him cheered and released cat calls, all John saw was Sherlock; cream-colored skin with some blushing spots appearing from all the attention, tousled curly hair, erotic face, delicious column of neck, creamy front torso, sensitive nipples, abs, elegant back, glittery crotch and ass, long legs, strong caves, emphasized from the heels, the dirty blond took in every thing, memorizing what he can.

Sherlock continued dancing against the pole, dropping his ass every now and then to slowly bring it back up to dance again, but then he did something that John knew was coming but was still amazed when it happened. Sherlock climbed that pole, wrapping his legs around it and swinging him self around a few times, stopped and continued a slow dance of limbs and impressive upper body strength. Sherlock worked that pole like a professional, contorting in ways that brought explicit images to John minds involving the detective's flexibility. The brunette ended his performance with only his legs wrapped around the pole as he hung upside down, breathing in and out deeply. During the middle of his performance, Sherlock felt the effects of the Blue Krill pill; he noticed that he felt good but he also noticed that he felt sexy and slightly aroused by the time he finished his performance. The crowd cheered for him while he bowed and walked off stage, heading directly towards John, straddled his lap and kissed him, involving tongue and massaging John's head. The crowd also cat called that display too, forcing John and Sherlock to stop and grin. Sherlock's grin caught John's breath, admiring the beauty of this man on him. The detective positioned him self to sit on the doctors lap, leaning his head against his shoulder and the brunette had his mouth near the doctor's ear.

"As soon as this is over, we have to get back to the suite." Sherlock whispered.

"What's wrong?" John whispered back.

"The new drug, it called Blue Krill, it's in me."

"What? But how?"

"Trevor gave me some, to calm my nerves but it's doing something else."

John's eyes hardened in concern as he held Sherlock close to him. They stayed and watched the last performance and left quickly as soon as the show was over, with John putting his coat around Sherlock since he saw Garretson's eyes lingering on the brunette.

~ In their Suite ~

Sherlock and John entered their suite, immediately going to the bedroom, the detective searching through john's luggage and handing the doctor a pad of paper and pen and sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to him; John sat down.

"I need you to take notes of the drugs affects."

"Ok."

"It took effect during my performance, at first I felt relaxed because before I went on stage I felt some what nervous, but never mind that, I soon felt energetic, finding my self getting into my dance and now, I feel aroused. Check my symptoms."

John checked him over, taking his pulse, his breathing and pupils.

"Accelerated breathing and pulse, dilated pupils, and a flushed face, all signs pointing towards arousal."

"Yes, that's how I'm feeling and it's getting intense."

John eyed the bulge in Sherlock's boy shorts and looked away blushing.

"You going to be alright taking care of that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine, I'll shower and take care of it in the bathroom, no problem."

Sherlock was panting a bit, the drug taking over and he rummaged around his own luggage, finding some of the sex toys he brought with him, a small packet of lube, a jelly dildo and a waterproof vibrator. The brunette headed towards the bathroom but John stopped him,

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to be fine, right?"

"Yeah, just need to do a bit of wanking and what not, I'll be out soon."

Sherlock entered and closed the bathroom door, leaving John to sit on the bed, to wait and mull over every thing that has happened so far, although hearing the shower start didn't exactly help John erase the image of a wet Sherlock masturbating in there.

As soon as the detective stepped in the shower, toys included, he set to work, fisting his erection with urgency, using his precum as some lube and pumping furiously, feeling the build up of climax and cumming so quickly, but the erection didn't go down. With his back leaning against cool tiles, warm skin clashing with the chill of limestone, the water from the shower flowing over him like a river, magnified his sensations; he lubed up the jelly dildo and started to insert it.

John sat on the edge of the bed, consumed with lust at what Sherlock was doing in the bathroom at this moment. The doctor was feeling warm, thinking and imagining Sherlock, long fingers around an angry red pulsating cock, moving languidly up and down with the occasional tip rubbing, for an added sensation. The lube making the red cock shine and making the curly pubic hair around the cock stick to skin. John drooled at the image in his mind and quickly brushed it away when he heard a muffled moan from the bathroom, he started to undress and put on his sleep clothes.

Sherlock was desperate, trying to find relief with the pumping of his cock, fondling his balls and penis head, all the while withdrawing and inserting the jelly dildo in his anus, it wasn't enough though. Sherlock, with shaking hands, grabbed and lubed up the waterproof vibrator, inserting, switching it on and probing it in and out of him self. His whole body was shivering, still pumping his erection, trying to gain some relief; feeling the stirrings of orgasm only to feel it out of reach, so close and yet not enough, it wasn't enough. He cried out in frustration and nearly sobbed when he couldn't reach his climax, he needed help.

Lights dimmed, John was lying on his back in bed, shirt and pajama bottoms on, eyes on the ceiling, with a hard on from the images his mind was tormenting him with. John adjusted himself so that his erection was pulsing against his abdomen, inside his pants and refused to touch him self until he was able to use the bathroom to find relief. He looked over when the bathroom door opened, feeling his erection harden even more by what he saw. Sherlock, hair and body still dripping wet from the shower, wearing the suite-provided-white-bathrobe, open and revealing his, just as John imagined, angry red still hard cock, protruding from a nest of still wet pubic curls. The sight was pure sex, but John also took in the brunette's facial appearance and felt bad, the man looked miserable, eyes on the verge of tears, body shaking and panting for breath, pouting slightly and looking at John in agony.

"John… help me, please?"

"Are you ok?"

"No, it won't go down, I can't find release and it's starting to hurt. Please help?" Sherlock breathed out.

"We should get you some medical attention, there's a small clinic on the lower deck, we could-?!"

"No! I need **your** help, it's not enough for me to do it alone, I need you."

John struggled internally, he wanted to help out Sherlock but he was wondering if this was right, if he should go down this road with no way to go back.

"Please Jawn?"

That moaned plea sealed the deal for the doctor, with a new resolution to help out his best friend because said best friend was in trouble and required his assistance.

"Come here and lie down." John gently told him. Sherlock shucked off the robe and got comfortable on the bed, John taking off his own sleep clothes, and climbing on top of Sherlock in the nude, with the detective spreading his legs to secure the dirty blond between them.

"Ah!" The brunette gasped

"What wrong?"

"My skin, its more sensitive, kind of feels like it's on fire."

"Well, lets put out that fire, I don't want you to burn." John whispered softly before taking lips with his own. Their bare bodies pressed against each other, the friction of their naked erections, rubbing deliciously, with John taking the precum of both their hardness, lubricating their lengths and slicking them up. They kissed languidly, leisurely taking their time although Sherlock struggled between going fast and enjoying this lethargic pace. John's tongue taking control, twisting and massaging Sherlock's oral muscle, reeling the touch of the hot, wet organ, breathing in each other's breath, gasping and sighing softly. John, once again, went for Sherlock's neck, refreshing those same marks from earlier and making new ones. Sherlock felt heat all over, writhing slightly as the doctor moved lower, marking his chest and abusing a nipple, his hand still rubbing their hot cocks together.

"Ah! John!"

"Shh! Its okay."

"Ah!"

The dirty blond teased the other nipple bud, giving it the same attention while working some erotic magic on their lower regions, the sensitive nerves in the tips of their penises adding to the already increasing feeling in their loins. The doctor licked a trail of saliva down the detective body until he couldn't no more; he sat up, both erections in his hand, grinding his hips to create more friction between them, making Sherlock thrust up and join in.

"St-stop staring at me like th-that."

"Can't help it, you're so fucking beautiful."

"Sh-shut up. Ah!"

"Mmm, its true."

"St-op being so, damn…ah, sentimental."

"Shut up Sherlock."

John increased the pace of their frotting, forcing the brunette to thrust against him faster as well, panting for breath, moaning in pleasure. If the doctor wasn't already attracted to Sherlock and falling for him, the sight and experience he was currently going through would have sent him into cardiac arrest at the beauty before him. The detective, sheets and pillows nestled around him, lying on his back, long legs spread, full body flushed, breathing heavily, face revealing the exquisite sensation, mouth open in silent and not so silent erotic sounds, thrusting, arms tossed haphazardly near his head and damp curls fanned out, contrasting against the white pillow cover. What struck a chord with John were Sherlock's eyes, unconcealed lust and most importantly trust, shone through those glossy ice blue orbs, surrounding by dark eyelashes. That morning, he may have said they he and Sherlock were not having sex but who knew that it would feel so fucking good?

Sherlock never would have dreamed that sex with John would this hot, watching the man in front of him, groaning his pleasure, full body flushed, cropped hair and skin slightly sweaty, muscles under skin flexing, thrusting, one arm moving rapidly on their touching erections, the other arm caressing the detective's skin near his groin, inner thigh and leg, delivering their on coming climax, his face a mixture of determination and passion, breathing heavily as well.

"John, enter me, please?"

"No."

"What? Please?"

"No, we're almost there."

They continued their frottage some more, the mounting onslaught of their orgasm just over the peak

"John, I can't, I'm going to-!"

"Come for me Sherlock."

With a hand trick of rubbing their cock tips together, they reached that orgasm.

"JAAWWWN!" the brunette moaned out in a wanton fashion.

"SHERLAWK!" the dirty blond shouted with a small growl.

Only to feel like they were falling and did their best to maintain that orgasmic high, the detective finally cumming on their torsos and John cumming on them as well. The doctor collapsed on top of Sherlock, both men catching their breath, inhaling and exhaling loudly, trying to recover from their mutual orgasms. Sherlock gently kissed John's scar, from the front and held the man close. John managed to wrap his arms around Sherlock, holding him too; the desire to cuddle was intense. Eventually they caught their breath.

"John?"

"Hm?"

"Why didn't you want to enter me?"

The doctor thought quickly for an answer, he didn't want to enter Sherlock for moral reasons being that he would feel more comfortable with the idea of anal sex if they were an official couple, but he told Sherlock something different, pushing himself on his arms in a push up position, the detective's head in between his arms.

"You used both the dildo and vibrator and you were still a quivering mess of stimulated nerves. I don't think my dick would have been very helpful."

"It could have been, I mean, yours is real compared to the dildo and vibrator."

"Most people would prefer the vibrator."

"You forget, I'm not most people."

John smiled, causing Sherlock to smile back, relived that they can still have their playful banter, even after having sex.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"Its back."

"What? Oh!"

John looked down to see Sherlock's cock standing up right again, only to look back at Sherlock's face with a smug grin,

"Well, would you look at that? Apparently, it wants an encore."

"Shut up." The detective scowled, making John smirk.

"I know another way to take care of this."

The dirty blond kissed the brunette, opened mouthed and sloppy, kissing his way down Sherlock's body, licking at the cum, reaching his groin, and nuzzling the curly pubic hair.

"John, what are you… oh! Oh!" the brunette whimpered

John was licking at the head of Sherlock's penis before taking a good portion of it in his mouth, starling the brunette with the heat of his mouth, swirling the tip like a lollypop with his tongue.

"Ah! Oh my God! Ahh!"

The detective brought one of his hands to his own mouth, the other hand on John's head, encouraging his oral actions. With out warning, John swallowed the entire length, surprised that he can throat it that deep, causing Sherlock to moan out,

"AH! JAWN!"

Sherlock came four times that night, once in the shower, once when John gave him head and twice while frotting with the doctor. John came twice, not caring much for his own pleasure but glad that the drug was finally out of commission in detective's system, so was Sherlock. They sleep soundly that night, wrapped in each other's arms, ambitious to be a tangled mess of limbs and awkward moments in the morning but for now, they were content with sleep.

**Author's Note:** Yay, I give you the longest chapter ever, whoo! You know what, I thought about making it into two parts but then I thought, fuck that, the readers want the funny and sexy smut and I aim to please. Yay, stripper pole dancing Sherlock! You readers are seriously an awesome bunch, review if you want.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own any these of characters, they belong to their respective creators.

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

Sherlock woke up, lying on his stomach, feeling surprisingly restful but felt no one else on the bed with him. He looked around the room, got up and found John sitting on the couch from where he was peeking on him in the bedroom doorway. The doctor, dressed casually in some trousers and a shirt, seemed lost in thought, perhaps he was thinking over what happened the night before? For a man that mostly had sex with women, he was impressed the dirty blonds performance last night, glad that they were able to metabolize the drug that quickly. Sherlock went into the bathroom, taking a shower to wake up and wash off the last remains and evidence of their coupling.

John heard the shower go on, knowing that Sherlock was awake but it made him even more nervous about how to talk to him. He just had sex with his best friend, granted it wasn't anal but still was a type of sex. After their first time, John felt glad that their banter was still the same more or less, but this morning could be different. The drug wasn't affecting Sherlock now, they went at it a few more times last night so, yeah, this morning could be **very** different. John just hoped that he could keep his head on and not think back to last night when he spoke to Sherlock, but he knew that he can never go back to how he saw Sherlock as his best friend. They were still best friends, but now, John saw possibilities of them being lovers as well, and it tore at him internally.

In the shower, Sherlock thought to how he found the doctor, staring into space, sitting on the edge of the couch, head in his hands, a pose of anxiety. John's body language bothered Sherlock, which startled him, why would he be bothered by John's obvious anxiety? What could the doctor be nervous about? Sherlock still felt and thought the same about the man, as a best and only friend. Of course, deep within the inner recesses of Sherlock, things had changed but once again **those** thoughts and sentiments were imprisoned in the dungeon of his Mind Palace, that dungeon was getting full. The detective then thought about how John had protested against such intimacy and realized that the man may actually regret or be ashamed of his actions the precious night. Sherlock thought it was no big deal, sex was sex, no emotions involved, only to have some slight inner contradiction with that though but locked it up.

Sherlock, soon, got out of the shower dressed comfortably as well, and joined John on the couch, startling the man out of his reverie. The smiled awkwardly at each other, although John didn't make eye contact, which made Sherlock think John might actually be a shamed of what they did and came to a decision.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

There was an awkward tension in the air between them.

"I, um, we need to talk, about last night."

"Oh?"

"I, want to thank you, for helping me out. That Blue Krill was some strong stuff, I didn't realize how strong. I knew I could trust you, with my body, although last night, you got a bit sentimental but it was probably due to the heat of the moment. So… Thank you, for being here with me and being my best friend."

With the way Sherlock was looking at him made John's heart speed up and stomach tingle.

"Sherlock I…"

"Hm."

John want to say something, a certain special something but he just couldn't, the temptation to declare his possible romantic love for this was apparent and strong but the thought of losing his friendship over it, held him back.

"Its no problem, that's what friends do."

Sherlock grinned, but there seemed to be some kind of disconnection or a space between them now, did he miss something? The brunette observed John's eyes; there was an unsettling forlorn resolve in those dark blue orbs. Unknowingly to John, Sherlock's mind hinted at something, but he internally chuckled, there was no way that John was in love with him… was he? He locked up that thought as well. They were silently sitting there for a good while until John spoke up, to end the tension.

"What exactly possessed you to strip and pole dance in the tal-, no, what possessed you to even enter a talent show?"

"I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

"This entire trip has been a surprise."

"Aren't surprises usually well accepted?"

"Depends on the persons mood and how good the surprise was."

"Did you like it?"

"I, um, I-I"

"Well?"

"Yes, yes I did like it. It was sexy, fun and impressive. I did not know that you had that kind of dexterity."

Sherlock grinned and they spoke about Trevor, Garretson and about some of the text Sherlock as Ash received about drug logistics and locations. After talking they went to breakfast and enjoyed being out on the food court deck, relishing the warm weather conditions and morning sun.

~ After lunch ~

About an hour after lunch, Sherlock got an idea, while he and John were walking along the one of the many decks of the ship, hand in hand, posing as Ash and George. They were passing by some of the other hotel like rooms when he spotted a familiar name, Turtle Island. He pulled John into a nearby small alcove, near the entrance of Turtle Island, the doctor feeling how close Sherlock's body was, getting some flash backs to the night before, but he shook those thoughts, they were tempting.

"Ash, what are you?"

"Shh, just listen. When Trevor was giving out the Blue Krill, he spoke to some other gentleman, saying he's staying in the Turtle Island suites because Garretson kicked out of their suite, that's where the drug stash is, with Trevor."

"And?"

"And we need to get some samples."

"So, we're just going to knock on his door and ask for some more?"

"No, he watches you take the pills, making sure that you consume it."

"Then?"

"We, are going to **take** some samples."

"Break in? Sherlock, all the doors for the suites are card activated, you can't just break in."

"What time is it?"

"It's, 1:54 pm."

"Perfect, I have a plan, follow my lead."

The concierge for Turtle Island was currently distracted, dealing with an annoying client on the other line if the huffs of irritation were anything to go by. The snuck past the desk and into the hall with multiple doors that lead to the rooms, there was a cleaning cart in the middle of the hall, full of room cleaning supplies. The cleaning person was vacuuming at the moment when Sherlock eyed some objects on the cart, quickly grabbed them and walked with John away from the cart, looking for Trevor's room.

"What are the napkins for?"

"To wrap around your head." Sherlock wrapped a white napkin around his head and over his hair, doing the same thing with another napkin to John's head. They continued walking until they found the room.

"Here it is, TI 64."

Sherlock stole the cleaning person's card keys for the rooms, ready to insert it in the slot.

"Wait, we don't even know if he's in there and we're just going to break in."

"Who in their average right minds would be inside, in their room, on such a lovely day?"

"We're breaking into a room on such a lovely day, us, obviously."

"We're not average."

Sherlock inserted the card, turned the knob and they both entered the room, closing the door behind them. The detective began looking around but John zoned out when he saw Sherlock bend over, images of the strip and pole dance replaying in his vision.

"Quick, look in those drawers."

Sherlock turned to face John, noticing that he was dazed and walked towards him.

"John. John?"

Waving his hands in front of the doctor's face, pulling him out and snapping his fingers in front of the man.

"Would you pull yourself together?"

"Oh, sorry. Look where?"

"In those drawers. I'll check on his luggage."

The brunette has taken into account that John spacing out has happened five times so far today, especially during breakfast and lunch. The way John was watching him and watching his mouth, with desire that Sherlock knew couldn't be right but the small hint from earlier made its presence again only to be locked up again. John knew he had to stop dazing out but he couldn't help him self, he saw Sherlock in a whole new light. The dirty blond wanted the man, as a lover, sharing a bed, waking up side by side, comfortable in each other's personal space, granted they did the majority of what lovers already do, sex included but there was no official statement and John didn't even know how Sherlock felt about him. These thoughts just were really bothering him but he put them away, for the sake of the case, however, when this case was over, how was he to cope with just being best friends with Sherlock and having platonic interactions with the man? John looked longingly at the brunette, watching him go through the luggage with determination, ignorant to how the doctor felt, and his mood sunk a bit lower as he shuffled through the drawers.

"Ah ha! I found some."

Sherlock held up some of the packets for John to see, but there success didn't last long, the door was being unlocked.

"Shit, some one's coming in!" The doctor whispered violently.

"Just follow me."

The door opened to reveal two large bulky men, dressed in suits, they were Garretson's men. When these men opened the door to Trevor's room, they were taken by surprise by the two men arguing in the doorway, they were the cleaning crew.

"I told you once and a thousand times before, to never, **never**, leave the cart in the middle of the fucking hallway!" the taller of the two men left the room.

"Why the fuck are you yelling at me for?! Phillip lectured me, not you!" the tall man was followed out by a shorter man.

"You brought shitty attention to the both of us since I'm in charge of you and now, Phillip will be watching the both of us closely!"

"Well, maybe he should be watching us closely, considering how fucking oblivious you are to the guest"

They started to hit each other with fist to each other's shoulders, still walking away.

"Oh, just shut the fuck up!"

"No! You need to shut the fuck up!"

The muscle men of Garretson's brushed the cleaning dudes off until they heard a different voice.

"Hey, give me back those keys!" it was the real cleaning person.

Then the two guys with white bandanas took off running.

"Come on!"

This caused some confusion until the men finally caught on and gave chase.

They ran down the hall and went left, into another hall.

"The entrance was just right there!" John stated.

"Its too obvious, no, we'll lose them this way." They climbed up a stair well.

"Oh, its easy for you, long legs like Olympic athlete." The left the stairs into another hallway, the heavy footfalls of the suited men behind them.

"Save the compliment for later, I need you to catch up, grab my hand!"

Sherlock and John ran down a series of corridors going left, right, left, right, right, left, the detective clearly knowing where they were going. They ran down a hall way leading to an outside deck and came across a party on the main deck, with shirtless men surrounding them.

"Quick, take off your shirt, in fact, take off everything, except your pants."

The muscle men stopped short, noticing that there was a sea of shirtless party men, enjoying music, dancing, chatting, laughing, some where making out, just an overall party scene as they began to walk through the crowd. They walked in the crowd for a good while looking for white bandannas because they didn't catch the faces to the thieves. The men stopped in front a pool bed, barely glancing at the nearly nude male couple snogging while one of the muscle men was dialing a number on his phone.

"Garretson, its Rene. There was a problem getting McElroy's stuff. There were two dudes in there, arguing and shit but they looked like the help. Yeah, no, they ran off, probably with some of the stash, yeah, ok, huh, ok, yeah, we're on it, we'll find them."

He hung up the phone, turning towards his buddy.

"Dude, we're fucked."

"Why?"

"This is our third strike asshole, letting those fuckers get away. Do you remember what they looked liked?"

"One was tall and the other was short, they had that English accent?"

"Asswipe, this whole fucking boat has that accent. Anything else?"

"Just their clothes."

"Fuck. Let's go, we'll just say that we went looking for them and couldn't find their ass."

"So, we're going to avoid Garretson for the whole day?"

"Until he calls us in, yeah, we're avoiding him."

The men left, and the couple on the bed making out was actually Sherlock and John, trying to listen to the conversation the other men were having while tongues were getting intimate, memorizing the contours of each other's mouth. John was on top of Sherlock and stopped his actions to glance around, not hearing the men's voices any more. Their clothes and stuff being a make shift pillow under Sherlock's head.

"I wanted to hide the pills in your pants, however, I never noticed how much heat you're packing in there… good to know."

"You didn't notice last night?"

"I wasn't exactly myself last night."

They both chuckled, with Sherlock smiling up at John, which took the doctors breath away. The mirth in those ice blue eyes, the eye crinkles, the flushing cheeks, the gorgeous smile exposing white teeth, it stunned John but left him feeling some heartache. John removed himself from lying on top of Sherlock, but lied near him, whispering in his ear.

"Let's stay here for now, I like the music."

Sherlock nodded in agreement, but noticed the space between them growing even further and not liking the situation or the idea of where this could lead. He liked John as a flat mate and good friend, hell, best friend and he'll be damned if this case changed that. Of course, there was a small thought trying its hardest to scream at Sherlock from the deep recesses of his Mind Palace Dungeon, it screamed in vain. They stood there, on the pool bed for a while, just talking as George and Ash, enjoying the environment, then went to dinner after, wearing different clothes they traded with another couple, but kept their stuff, Blue Krill hidden in John's pocket. Dinner was a silent and strained affair, sure they played up the George and Ash roles but it didn't feel as natural as it did before, the was an invisible wall.

The walk back to their room was tense as well, due to receiving a message from Garretson, notifying them that there was a meeting tomorrow along with some of the meetings details. The wall felt a little thicker after that, John looked over at Sherlock with a type of dejected pining, but would quickly look away when Sherlock turned to face him, making the brunette suspicious. What changed John's mood from hopeless pit of despair to burning irritation was the sight of Garretson. The man was inside the closing elevator, with Trevor hanging on his arm, apparently they made up, the wink he gave John annoyed him but not as much as the full body check out he gave Sherlock or Ash, followed by a licking of his lips. John was glad the elevator doors closed, before he did something stupid to blow their cover, like flip the man off.

They entered their room, Sherlock sitting and relaxing on the couch, watching John pace back and forth in front of him. The detective saw the shift in John's mood, glad the man stopped pouting but now thought twice if this change was wise to wish for.

"Are you pacing in irritation because of Garretson?"

John was making huffy faces, holding back his aggravation.

"You're wasting your energy, he'll be put away be the end of this case, relax."

John's dam of feelings broke.

"You shouldn't have trusted me."

"What?"

"You should **not** have trusted me." Still pacing and then stood in front of Sherlock.

"John, what are you-?"

"I said it from the beginning, I didn't want to do this but you pulled me in. I thought that after this case, we could go back to the way things were, but I was wrong. And now? I will ruin the best thing that's ever happened to me, your friendship, be-because…"

Sherlock sat up, in a thinking position with elbows on his knees and hands over his mouth, observing John, knowing where this was going.

"Say it."

"No, don't make me, I don't want to, I can't." John shook his head, scratching it in anxiety.

"Just say it John!"

"I'm not like you! I can't detach myself from myself, body, whatever, you know what I mean. I lied to you, the day we got the case and first kissed, I lied about not feeling anything. I lied. I did feel something and since then, those feelings have grown so fucking out of control that I can't hold them in anymore. Last night only confirmed what I felt. Sherlock, I love you."

Sherlock sighed, looking away and looking back at John, no emotion in those eyes.

"John… I'm flattered but we can't."

"That's the part that bothers me the most. We have done stuff, private intimate stuff that friends, don't normally do to each other."

"I told you, not to develop any emotional attachment while on this case."

"Yeah, well, can you blame me for it happening? Can you blame me for feeling this way? There were moments, small as they were but those small moment felt real, even though they were an act, **I** felt as if they were real, so can you really blame me for believing?"

"And what would you have me do? Share the same sentiment? Confess my undying love for you?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes, mocking the dirty blond.

A bold line was drawn, showing itself to the doctor, clearly the doctor's love was one-sided and being shot down with a sniper rifle to his heart. The hurt and confusion going through him was overwhelming. With a stoic face and resigned eyes, he looked at Sherlock, who gave him a similar look, with out the hurt.

"No, clearly you're incapable of doing that." The last word coming out in a shaky breath as the doctor left the suite.

John closed the door and leaned against the wall near it, a rogue tear escaping one of his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, he left the area. Sherlock tousled his hair in irritation; he suspicions being correct as always. The day started out well, but he observed John's behavior, taking mental notes and eventually figured it out, the doctor was in love with him, he knew it. Knowing that, still left him feeling unsettled, like something was a miss. He pondered about it but decided to lock it away.

"Oh John, you sentimental fool," Sherlock got up from the couch, stretching and unwillingly feeling the ghost touches of John to his body from the night before,

"I.. I… Dear God."

The dungeon of his Mind Palace could only hold so many emotions before they begin to rebel and break though. The ghost touches where the catalyst that broke the inner walls containing the detectives feelings. His mind was racing, images and memories filling his brain, images and memories of one John Watson. The first time the met, his smile, his laugh, his sense of humor, his rage, his embarrassment, their first kiss, the denial, imprisonment, memories, and images of feelings all flashing in quick succession in his mind until his brain focused on the last image it had of John, stoically distraught, leaving the suite, leaving him. These overwhelming feelings, images and memories brought thick hot tears to ice blue eyes, falling down his face with out stopping; forcing the man to his knees and bringing a hand to his shocked mouth because the sensations just destroyed him. Sherlock realized what was happening and was not prepared for this self-revelation; he was in love with John too. There was just so much confusion and awareness to that fact that Sherlock just openly sobbed into the couch cushions, shoulders shaking as he released pent up emotions with muffled cries and clutched at his hair in frustration. How, just how could he fall in love with the man, without knowing it? How could his imprisoned, heart burn with love and passion for John Watson without Sherlock's permission? Just how was he not aware that, he too, was slowly falling in love until now? So many questions and no answers, he continued sobbing into the cushions, unsure of what to do. How do you cope with the realization of being in love with your best friend, when you just rejected said best friend's confession of love towards you? The tears just didn't stop and seemed never ending.

John found a bar on a floor below his suite, ordered a drink and hung out near the railings, looking out at the night sky and dark-ocean. The water reflected the stars in the sky, looking like a comfortable blanket. This thought brought a morbid thought to John's brain, he thought of jumping off the ship, into the freezing water below, getting rid of his heartache. The idea was tempting but thought better against it, even an attempted suicide would probably go wrong for him and he will be forever ridiculed for having a one-sided love for Sherlock, been rejected and then wanting to die from expecting the same feelings back from a machine. There was only one other man around for comfortable company, quite a distance from him.

"A toast." He said catching the mans attention,

"To your love life because I, don't have one." John downed the drink.

"You do now."

The small statement made the doctor choke on his drink, thinking 'Shit!'

The guy came over and stood side by side with John, they were about the same height, the other guy being a little shorter, with blond hair, sun tanned skin and dressed in a shirt and shorts, giving John a look of seduction with brown eyes.

"Hi, I'm Jason." The man was leaning closer, invading the doctor's personal space, ready to pucker up

"I, uh, I should go and, um"

"Fine, don't tell me your name, anonymous conquest are fun." This Jason dude was far too close to John now, when the dirty blond heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, Hell No!" it was Markel, sounding scandalized with a shocked Rex by his side.

"Stay out of this Markel."

"Wait, you two know each other?" John asked.

"You stay away from that man, he's taken."

"By who? I see nobody with him?"

"By his man, Ash."

"I don't see this **Ash** person around."

"George, what in the **hell** are you doing with this slimy bitch?!"

"I only gave him a toast and he came on to me." The doctor mumbled, it was drowned out.

"Who are **you**, calling a slimy bitch? Bitch!"

"The only bitch around here with a shitty haircut, imitation designer shoes and very noticeable calf surgery! You!"

Jason let go of George, focusing his attention on Markel, the doctor stood near Rex, who seemed unaffected by this.

"I take it you've seen this before?"

"Jason's an old flame of mine, but the fucker's crazy. He's been going after Markel, telling him shit."

"Huh, ok."

The two men were shouting now.

"You want some of this?!" yelled Markel.

"Not some, I want all of it!"

"I'm a Karate black belt, you can't touch this!"

"Yeah? Then I'm a black belt in 'I'm going to fuck your shit up'!"

"Come at me, Bitch!" Jason screamed.

Heavy blows were thrown, John stood there shocked at the actual violence, sure these men were gay but they were still men, with tempers and testosterone. The dirty blond looked at Rex,

"Aren't you going to stop them?"

"No, Markel can handle him self."

Rex was right, Markel was a punching machine, throwing punch after punch until Jason shouted stop and ran off, leaving Markel breathing heavily from the fight.

"If I see you again bitch, you'll get more of that! Asshole!"

Markel violently turned towards George,

"And you! Cheating on Ash?! I should punch you too!"

"I wasn't cheating, I swear!"

"Then what were you doing with **him**?!"

"I only wished **him** a toast and he practically threw himself at me!"

"You're not bull shitting me?"

"That's the truth."

"Where's Ash?"

"We had an argument."

"Did you learn nothing from the closet sex the other day?"

"Sex isn't going to fix this problem, its, its too personal."

Markel looked at him, some of the earlier anger going away.

"When make up sex isn't the answer, talking is, so you better get back to your suite, talk and get your shit together, because Ash is a catch, you know that, right?"

"Right."

"So, go back to your room, make up and shit, because seeing you with that Jason asshole was just wrong. I can't see you with anybody else, but Ash."

John left the two men, feeling dumbstruck, repeating what Markel said a few times in his mind. John agreed with Markel, he too, couldn't see him self with anyone else but Sherlock, only Sherlock. No other women made him feel that way and no other man made him feel that way; it was all Sherlock. As he took the long way back to their suite, he dreaded the encounter with Sherlock but realized that if he couldn't be lovers with Sherlock, he could still be his best friend, loving him internally but being friends on the surface, a type of slow painful torture John was prepping for.

The lights in the suite were all off when John entered, everything felt still but not wrong.

"Sherlock? Where are, oh, I thought you were a sleep." John looked in the bedroom and sat on the bed near the brunette, sensing something odd.

The bedroom was dark except for the light from the outside night sky illuminating their room a dark blue, Sherlock's body glowing where the light shone on him from where he sat on the bed. The detective was covered from the waist down with a sheet, wearing sleeping clothes, sitting curled up against his knees, staring in to space while tears ran from his red swollen eyes down his face like twin rivers, as he sat there trying to analyze his thoughts and feelings.

"Hey, Sherlock, what's wrong?" the doctor asked softly.

"Everything." He answered, keeping the same tone, moving and crossing his legs under the sheet, hands twiddling in the center of his crossed legs.

"I don't know how it happened but it did, and I don't know what to do about it. I-I haven't been entirely truthful to you too. I did feel something, when we kissed, but you know me, I don't give my emotions any form of attention. In fact, I lock them up. Lock them up because I can't process through them, they aren't illogical. But, tonight… I came to the realization that I love you too, John."

John was stunned and wanted to be happy about that but he in doubt.

"Don't-don't say things you don't mean."

Sherlock looked into his eyes

"You don't believe me."

"Well, how can I believe you? You, being the type of person to manipulate other's emotions for your own purposes, can you blame me for having doubt?"

"John, please! I'm sorry; I'm so sorry John, I…" he broke off sobbing softly with fresh tears. The dirty blond felt his heart ache, not once since he's lived with this man had he seen him so upset and actually cry like this, it was sad and disheartening. Sherlock, this strong, intelligent and eccentric man, being so broken because of his sentiment.

"Please, believe me John…" He whispered.

John just couldn't let the detective cry with no comfort; he maneuvered himself to sit behind Sherlock, wrapping his self comfortably around the weeping brunette, holding him close. The detective felt John's arms encompass him, feeling slightly relived but still distraught; he gripped at the doctor's arms, feeling him and embracing the moment.

"I must look a sight, all this crying and feelings… emotions are a messy business."

"So ignore them, like you've always done."

There was mirth behind John's reply, making Sherlock smile through his tears.

"Not when there's so much."

They sat there, in the darkest blue of the room, Sherlock calming down and John just holding him. The brunette turned his head to look at the dirty blond, making eye contact, ice blue meeting dark blue.

"Am I too late?"

"You're never too late."

Both men leaned into kiss, a meeting of lips but it was different this time, the lust was there but it was being over shadowed by love. The kiss deepened, warm tongues dancing together which opened the floodgates of their hearts. Still kissing Sherlock moved him self so that he was laying on top of John, truly feeling the man beneath him, cherishing that John, his John, still wanted him.

They made love that night, slow, passionate, deliberate love. The night sky witnessing their union, blue shadows playing on their bodies as they moved together. The physical manifestation of their joined hearts as Sherlock leisurely rode John's cock. Both panting, whispering words of tenderness and endearment, caresses of pleasure, gasping, squeezing, rocking, breathing, moaning, skin on skin, clasping hands, feeling a deeper connection fulfilling their deepest desires, each other.

They made love, twice, and were now basking in the after glow, John on his back and Sherlock clinging to him, his hand leaving light caresses along the doctor's chest. Relief was their mutual feeling, relief and ease, not feeling the small irritating sensations of suppressed thoughts and sentiments.

"When we get home, we're going on a proper date."

"Wasn't Angelo's the first time you met me, a date?"

"That, no, that may have been foreshadowing."

Sherlock chuckled, a beautiful ring in John's ears. The doctor took the brunettes hand, the one with the gold band, in his hand, with the matching gold band, and held it up, observing the gold glint in the night light.

"Titanium bands would have been the better option, goes with your skin tone."

John kissed the top of Sherlock's curly head.

"You're going to buy me a ring?"

"If we last that long together, maybe."

"How long is that?"

"For as long as you'll have me."

"Then pray for immortality."

The both chuckled, eventually falling asleep in each other's embrace.

**Author's Note:** Yay! The confession and so many feels! I also brought out Markel's inner ghetto, yay. Review if you want.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to their respective creators

~ I Will Go Down On This Ship

Sherlock woke up to feel the heat of the morning sun on the back of his neck while John woke up to the sun in his eyes. The doctor moved so the sun wouldn't hurt as much when he opened his eyes. The sight before him was magnificent; Sherlock's eyes were slightly open, his lashes standing out against his pale complexion, gradually waking up. The detective was slowly blinking away the sleep when he focused on his bedmate, John and smiled warmly at the man.

"Morning."

"Morning." The dirty blond yawned out.

"John"

"Sherlock"

The detective leaned over and was kissing the doctor, the smooth touch of lips meeting; he took a hold on the John's head in his hands, caressing his cheek when he pulled away.

"I love you."

"I know, I love you too." Their eye contact never wavering.

"Ready for today?"

"Not exactly but what choice do we have?"

John got up from the bed, Sherlock doing the same, both men were completely nude from their previous night, the dirty blond was heading towards the bathroom when the brunette caught a gentle hold of his arm and locked lips with him, again. Open mouthed kisses, the contact of tongues full of determined force to taste each other, their arms embracing each other, indulging in the feel of each other's nudity. The sound of their kissing, the slick wetness of tongues and the breathing of each other's breath, was loud in their ears, and for a small while, the world was only them. They broke the kiss but their foreheads met, both men gasping slightly at the intensity of their kiss, their eyes met, dark blue shining with love at ice blue and ice blue displaying the same notion at dark blue.

"For some reason, it feels like I can't get enough of you." Sherlock said softly

"That's a mutual sentiment."

John held both of Sherlock's hands in his, looking down, blushing a bit; making the brunette inquisitive to his behavior.

"Sherlock, it'll be more convenient if we shower together."

"Oh?"

"And, perhaps we can try shower sex."

"That's brilliant."

"But, um, I want to be, um …"

"You want me to enter you?"

John nodded,

"Yes."

Sherlock smirked; holding one of his hands, lead the way to the bathroom.

"We'll need a few things."

The shower was steaming when they stepped in, John first and Sherlock soon after, welcoming the heat and subtle sting of the warm temperature. The detective got the soap and lathered them both up, feeling the soap against the doctor's skin as he washed him, and watching the reaction, as his actions became less innocent and more motivated towards their main goal for taking a shower. They both rinsed themselves and started kissing, very sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, involving a gratuitous amount of tongue and lip biting. The lust in their eyes when they looked at each other burned with love and spoke loudly even though they said nothing at all. The brunette maneuvered them so that John was leaning against the tiles walls of the shower, under the showerhead, as Sherlock kissed, licked, nipped and sucked his way down the dirty blond's body, with the water flowing down the brunette's back. A lovely prize greeted the detective, nestled in wet dirty blond pubic hair was a dark red cock with a small bead of precum, inviting him like a diamond. He mouthed at the area around the phallus, tonguing at the testicles and then licked from the base to the tip, tongue circling around the head. John held back a cry, bracing himself against the tiles,

"Oh!" he gasped out.

Sherlock reached for the lube, spreading it on his fingers and began messaging the doctor's hole.

"Relax."

"I'll try."

To help with the preparation, Sherlock took part of the doctor's cock in his mouth, quickly becoming accustomed to the size and taste as his tongue played with it. The sensations John was feeling surprised him as he panted, the hotness surrounding his length left him nearly breathless and the tickling at his hole felt funny but he did his best to relax. The brunette inserted one finger; John grimaced and nearly tightened around the digit if Sherlock hadn't taken the whole member in his mouth.

"Oh God, Sherlock!"

The detective worked his finger in the hole while leisurely releasing and taking the cock and then he inserted a second finger, smirking around the length when he heard the dirty blond gasp. Sherlock then began to stretch the area, increasing the speed of his fellatio, eventually he added a third finger and was scissoring inside the doctor, bobbing his head back and forth. John was a panting and whimpering mess, the peak of his orgasm close so he gently grabbed Sherlock's wet fringe, forcing the man to look up.

"I-I don't want to cum in your mouth."

The detective released the cock from his mouth and stood up, towering over John, piercing his gaze in to the shorter man's eyes.

"Are you sure you want this?" Sherlock asked in a husky voice

"Yes."

Sherlock leaned close, until they were skin to skin, when Sherlock positioned him self and began to insert, holding the doctor's leg up for leverage. The never broke eye contact, making the event of John's first experience with anal sex all the more meaningful. The dirty blond couldn't help but commit this view to memory, this ethereal man with ice blue eyes, wet curly hair, looking midnight black from the water running down, clinging to that normally pale skin which was flushed from the heat of their activity and the water temperature. Soon, the brunette was fully inserted and gave time for the dirty blond to adjust to the lusty intrusion. John breathed deeply, getting used to this feeling, which was easier said then done, but he wanted this.

"John? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just, give me some time."

John took a few more deep breaths, grasping Sherlock's shoulders.

"Ok, I'm ready."

Sherlock pulled out and pushed back in, slow at first but then the thrusting increased, bringing sounds of pleasure out of both of them.

"Ah!"

"Mmm."

Sherlock was thrusting at a steady pace but then angled himself and continued his pace, making John feel an even greater pleasure.

"Ha! Yes! More!"

"Like that?"

"Just like that!"

The thrusting increased in pace, going faster and faster, the detective gripped at John's erection, pumping it between their wet bodies.

"Harder!"

"And faster?"

"Yes!"

Soon, Sherlock was pounding into John, holding him against the shower wall with both of the doctor's legs around the detective, his pelvis snapping quickly, thrust after thrust, the slapping of skin against skin joining the sounds of love making and running water. Their orgasm was near; they felt it, hot and promising.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, I'm so close!"

"Yeah!"

"I'm-I'm going to cum!"

"John!"

Their orgasm crashed in them and all around them, overwhelming them as they called out each other's name. They kissed fully and pecked as they came down from their orgasmic high, John's eyes at half lid relishing in his climax while Sherlock observed and noted how sexy and erotic a post coital Shower John was in his arms with half lidded eyes, face flushed, breathing heavily and smiling in satisfaction.

~ The Meeting ~

After that lovely shower session, they spent the majority of the day outside, dressed casually, enjoying the sun and some of the cruise events. They picked up their act of Ash and George, although the small acts of love truly meant love and the eye contact between them as Ash and George, felt deeper for John and Sherlock, it lingered and connected them. Eventually, the time came for the drug meeting, where they arrived wearing designer suits, looking very much the image of Ash and George.

They arrived, as the text instructed, in a plain grey room with a large white oval table, surround by chairs, some of the chairs were occupied. This place was an employee lounge for the cruise line workers. They entered from one door but across the room the left was another door. Sherlock and John, in disguise, found seats and sat down, waiting for other drug personnel and their host. They didn't wait for too long, a few more people showed up and their host arrived, with one of his bodyguards standing against the back wall.

"So, we're all back, good. Just to let you know, I love having money, it's like a free pass to any location with the right price. This meeting room, not exactly luxurious but rented out to us for a great price. Now, I think it should be known that I don't want to know if you're a dealer or distributor, I don't give a shit. I don't need to know what you fucking do, to each their own. I don't care."

Garretson stood in front of the table, standing casually.

"I understand that deals have been made, which was the whole purpose of this trip, but now on to business. I'm sure every one of you has met my boy toy Trevor. And I know for a fact that everyone here has at least heard of these."

He held up the packet.

"Blue Krill, although small, its very potent."

And put it away in his trouser pocket, keeping his hand in there.

"But, before I get into it, you all know that Trevor was passing these out, under my orders. What you should also know is that Trevor's room was broken into and some of the Blue Krill packets were stolen. Trevor, being the fucking loud mouth he is, practically told everybody on this fucking boat that he had the pills. So now, as punishment, he's chained to the bed in my room, with a vibrator duct taped to his ass."

Garretson took out a small remote.

"Oh, its on low, let's turn it up."

He turned up the speed and threw it at his muscle guard, who easily caught it.

"After five minutes, turn that shit off." Garretson told the man and faced his audience. John hid his cringe for the man, Trevor and felt an utter dislike for Garretson.

"Blue Krill, is one hell of a drug, it has the same or similar effects as some of the popular drugs today. They come in packets of six, but the most that can be taken in day should be three. Sure, you can take more but you'll die." He chuckled a bit.

"One pill relaxes the body, makes you feel calm, two pills re-energize the body, making you feel like a king and three pills, well they make for the best sex ever, arousing the body. Honestly, I don't give a shit if little druggie fuckers take more than three, the packets were designed to share, but stingy fucks won't so its their problem, but as a warning to yourselves, four pills produce an full body numbing sensation, five pills give you 24 hour full body paralysis and six pills, you're dead." Garretson walked a few paces to his left to stand casually, leaning on his right leg, taking out his phone from his other suit pocket.

"So, here's what we're gonna do, the necessary people that know my number, start buying."

The next ten minutes of buying and distributing, Sherlock working his fingers texting, with John looking over his shoulder.

Garretson put his phone away and faced his audience again, only there was a change in his mood that brought red flags to John's mind.

"Alright, cool, we're done with that, let's move on. I want to get back to the subject of those pricks that stole from Trevor. Now, I'm not mad that they stole from Trevor, no. I'm a little irritated that instead of going through proper channels and communicating, they helped themselves to those fucking pills. But that's not even the main reason to why I'm mad, you see. I'm mad because that only means one thing, gentlemen, we have a mole among us."

The red flags waved with sirens.

"Yes, there is a fucking mole in our circle and no, I refuse to tell you how I figured it out, but I will weed the fucker out. Right now, with some tests, a reaction type of test. I will go to each asshole that I suspect is the mole and give them a small reaction test. Each little test will be different."

Garretson went to his first suspect, petite man from Brazil and a stern face.

"Stand up."

The man did and Garretson pieced a looked into his eyes, trying force the man to look away, but the small man didn't. The way Garretson was gazing and his proximity to the petite man was too close and he reminded John of a sexual predator, the sirens getting louder in his mind.

"Alright, go ahead and sit down."

He went to his next suspect, a calm faced man from Japan.

"Just seat right there."

Garretson started massaging the man's shoulders, sensually, moving his hand every now and then to massage at the man's chest, but the man didn't flinch, he actually relaxed into the caresses.

"Ok, cool. Nice chest by the way."

Garretson approached Sherlock, the alerts in John's head causing a major commotion complete with flashing red lights.

"You, sit up on the table and face me."

Sherlock did as told when Garretson was suddenly kissing him, tongue to stunned tongue, forcing Sherlock to lie down on the table with Garretson on top of him. The man assaulting Sherlock's mouth, hands gripping at the detective's rear, squeezing. The suddenness of this event caught John off guard, was this really a reaction test or had Garretson used an excuse to man handle Sherlock. Either way, the doctor wasn't liking it, it angered him but he tried to keep calm because their cover was on the line, no reacting. The moan from Sherlock's mouth as Garretson bit his neck set the dirty blond off.

"That's Enough!" John shouted, standing up with one fist that pounded the table, his face an image of anger.

Both men stopped and looked over at the doctor, Garretson smirking.

"And that, gentlemen, is your mole, or one of them anyway."

The bodyguard was at John's side in no time, pointing a gun at him, making the man surrender.

Garretson looked down at Ash smugly, still on top of him, while Sherlock rolled his eyes and lightly banged his head against the table.

"Sherlock Holmes, it's a nice way to meet you."

"Can't say the same. Do get off, your breath is deplorable and your vile presence is singeing my suit." The Ash façade was off.

"Ha, you've got balls."

"How did you do it?"

Garretson grinned, grabbing Sherlock's bum

"I never forget an ass, especially one as bangin' as yours."

Garretson then spanked the detective, hard, making him flinch. John winced at the hard slap, still angry at Garretson but also angry at himself for blowing their cover.

"I've been on your website and I've seen some of your pictures. It's a nice ass, get up."

Garretson brought out his own gun, pointing it at the brunette as he got up from the table to stand.

"Gentlemen, this meeting is done. Have a nice day and don't worry about these pricks, I'll take care of them."

The drug men in the room left and soon John and Sherlock were forced to follow Garretson with his bodyguard pointing his gun, following behind them.

~ The Confrontation ~

All four men stepped out of the elevator on the second floor of Palace Atlantis, heading towards Garretson's suite. They stopped at one of the door's, the vile man spoke with his guard, looking at Sherlock with hungry eyes.

"I think I'll play with this one, the short guy can watch."

Garretson pulled the detective inside the room while the bodyguard pulled john towards another door.

"Sherlock?"

"I'll be alright John."

"Sherlock?! Sherlock!"

John struggled against the guard while Sherlock was calm.

Garretson's suite was far more lavish and large but he hardly had time to admire the décor because he was being directed towards the bedroom. They entered and saw Trevor on the bed, naked, flushed and crying from the vibrator in his anus, covered with duct tape; the other bodyguard was in the room as well.

"Get that piece of shit in the bathroom, leave him and when you're done, join Nathan."

The bodyguard left, Sherlock was observing the room, the wide long mirror on the wall had him raise and eyebrow.

"The mirror?"

"Oh, you know what kind of mirror that is. I know the designer of these rooms, I paid a pretty penny to set this suite up for myself."

Garretson took off his jacket and approached Sherlock, dull eyes filled with lust for the detective.

John was taken to a small room, dark with the only light coming through on large window and a chair. He struggled but was forced to sit in the chair his hands were zip tied behind the chair's back. As he faced forward, he then realized that he can see Sherlock and Garretson through the window, he watched as Garretson approached Sherlock and didn't like where this was leading, it sickened and angered him, the man was too close to the brunette. Another bodyguard then joined the single bodyguard and they stood on either side of the doctor, watching the same view.

"Am I right in stating that my partner is on the other side of that mirror?"

"Yeah. What's his name? John, right?"

Garretson was more than invading Sherlock's personal space, the man held him close, as if they were lovers.

"Yes."

"Ooh, so proper. Soon, I'll have you begging like a dirty whore with that mouth."

Garretson, with both hands was fondling Sherlock's face, enjoying the sight before him, although Sherlock refused to look him in the eyes. The force closeness with this man was repulsing and he felt disgusted.

"You'll never hear me beg."

"We'll see, but for now, let's put on a good show for your partner, John."

Garretson kissed him, forcing his tongue in Sherlock's mouth but the detective bit it. The taller man slapped him across the face.

"Little bitch."

He put his gun to Sherlock's jawline, applying pressure so that the brunette inevitably made eye contact with him.

"Usually, I'm all for kinky fun but do that shit again and that pretty little face will be no more."

They kissed again, with Garretson taking off Sherlock's suit coat and shirt, violently.

John watched as the man spoke intimately with Sherlock but he shouted when the man kissed the brunette.

"No!"

He was then shocked when Garretson hit the detective, his anger increased,

"Stop it! Arsehole, don't touch him!"

"You dumbass, they can't hear you."

John ignored the guards and struggled with the zip ties.

"Sherlock!"

He watched as Garretson pointed the gun and kiss the detective again.

"Sherlock! No!"

Garretson broke the kissing to sit on the bed, quickly undoing his fly and pulled out his erection to look at Sherlock with a look.

"Let's put that mouth to good use, suck!" he pointed at his dick

The detective shuddered in revulsion but got on his knees, in front of the length, tentatively licking at the head. He licked for a small while but Garretson was impatient and forced part of his dick inside Sherlock's mouth. It felt wrong, so bloody wrong, like he was betraying John, but with a gun to his curly haired head, he had no choice.

John watched them kiss again and how Garretson sat on the bed, mess around with his trousers only to point at his crotch while speaking to the detective. It was when the brunette went to his knees that John felt some panic mixed with fury, shouting,

"No! Don't do it Sherlock! No! Don't! Sherlock!"

The intensity of his shouts growing as the sight of Sherlock giving this heinous man oral burned the doctor internally with fury and possession. Sherlock was John's and only John's to kiss, touch, and be that close with, no one else. He still struggled with the zip ties.

Sherlock was soon deep throating the erection, under the gun influence from Garretson, gagging every so often because he found that dick gross. Internally he felt the guilt of this act eat away at his heart, he thought about earlier that morning and how he preferred the John's cock in his mouth than the current one.

John watched as the brunette was now bobbing his head on Garretson's crotch, shouting out loud in desperation, never ceasing his struggles to break from the zip ties, even though they started to cut in to his wrist

"Sherlock! No! Stop! I'll save you! I swear I'll save you! Sherlock! SHERLOCK!"

The doctor felt a light blow from the gun handle to his head, not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to piss the dirty blond off.

"Shut up, you whiny bitch!"

John saw red from seething with pure rage, his brain entering military mode, main mission; take out the enemy and save Sherlock. The adrenaline from his rage allowed John the strength to break the zip ties, confusing the guards and then he attacked. John knocked the gun out of the guard on his left and punched the man, knocking him out cold, he then located the second guard and kicked the gun out of his hand but was hit with a blow to his stomach, which knocked the wind out of him for a second before he aimed a kick to the man's shins. The guard went to the floor, cringing and shouted a swear. John punched him again, twice and received a punch to his face in return but they were fighting on the floor and reaching for the gun, having forgotten about the other one, blows were thrown and they both got a hold of the gun when a shot rang out, followed by shattered glass.

The sound of a gun shot and shattered glass distracted Sherlock.

"What the fuck?" said Garretson.

The detective's brain worked quickly in this diversion, he knocked the gun away from his head, bit the man's dick, drawing some blood, forcing Garretson to double over as he pulled away and tried to pry to gun out of his hands but the vile man was holding on. The both struggled for the gun, wrestling for it with all their strength until it triggered.

"Aggghhhhh!"

The shot from the other room pulled John out of his red rage of punching the second guard, the man was already unconscious and he quickly got up to look through the opening where the window was, Sherlock was kneeling on the floor with a groaning Garretson, lying back on the bed, gripping his crotch and left leg, only to faint. The doctor jumped through the opening, kneeled in front of Sherlock and saw that he was bleeding from his mouth and chest. John panicked but went on doctor mode.

"Sherlock, love, you're going to be alright, ok? Just lie down and don't move, I'll fix you, I swear it, Sherlock, I'll help you, just don't-."

John's doctor mode didn't last long due to tears welling up in his eyes.

"John, John, hey, relax, I'm fine."

"But you've been shot? Here?"

John pointed towards his chest, near the hearts location, but the pain and concern in those dark blue eyes, one eye turning black, clenched at Sherlock's heart.

"Take a closer look."

John did take a closer look.

"I've only been nicked by the bullet, nearly no pain at all, well, except some stinging, but I'm ok."

"You weren't shot."

"No."

"But the blood on your mouth?"

"I bit Garretson's dick."

"So, you're not dying due to taking a bullet to the heart?"

"No."

John hugged him, so very close, avoiding the small wound on the detective's chest, while Sherlock hugged him back. The doctor was so relieved that a few tears of joy came out of his eyes, the events that had just taken place were frightening because it was unpredictable but he was so happy that they got through it. Sherlock felt just as relieved to have John, holding him with the same grip and placing a tender kiss on top of the dirty blonds head. John kissed near the wound on Sherlock's chest, the same gesture the brunette showed him at the spa a few days earlier. The minutes went by as the held one another, relishing the life of their loved one and pulled apart slowly, looking at each other

"I would kiss you but you've got dick blood on your mouth." John said against the detective's neck, making Sherlock chuckle, a deep warm sound.

"Let's call Mycroft and tell him that this stupid case has been solved."

"And about the poor sod in the bathroom with a vibrator taped in his arse."

"Yeah, that too."

"Sherlock?"

"Hm?"

John brought his arms up and over the brunette's shoulders to hug him again but whispered in his ear,

"For a moment, I thought I lost you."

Sherlock held John close again, arms encircling his waist, he whispered back,

"I thought I lost you too."

~ The Private Plane Ride Home ~

Mycroft gathered the necessary evidence in order to convict in a suitcase, closed it and left them alone to relax and talk after questioning them about nearly every single detail, although they skimmed over the more explicit ones, the majority of what happened was explained. Mycroft noticed the change in their dynamic, from their glances and the holding of hands when they explained the events, but he'll question Sherlock about it some other time Sherlock and John sat together on the couch of the private jet, although John was leaning against the brunette with a cold compress to his black eye. Sherlock was patched up as well, some stitching and plaster to keep it clean.

"Sherlock."

"Hm, yeah?"

"I want to apologize for blowing our cover."

"Oh, shhh, there's no need."

"Please, I just felt so jealous when he kissed you, I forgot that we were acting as Ash and George."

"He figured out it was us after the break in and he recognized my arse, that's hardly your fault."

"It does stand out, your arse."

Sherlock smiled, making John smile but the doctor got serious.

"Sherlock, I know you like giving head to Garretson and to be honest, neither did I. The image and very idea of you being with another man in that way angers me so much. I love you and I don't ever want to see you with another man like that again."

"What about a case?"

"I might make and exception but I just don't want you falling for some one else."

"Some one else, John, there is **no one** else, only you, I do love you."

Their eyes met and they leaned in to kiss, a chaste kiss but it was overflowing with love. They broke the kiss and moved back to their original spots, getting comfortable.

"So, when were you going to tell me about Jason?"

John grimaced.

"Never, how did you find out?"

"Markel texted me this morning."

"Markel, damn him."

"How come you didn't want to tell me?"

"Its not really a big deal, I was in a mood and wanted to toast some body on their happiness and he thought that I was hitting on him, really I wasn't."

"He obviously misunderstood."

"Yeah, until Markel and Rex came in the picture and Markel proceeded to beat the living shit of out Jason."

"Hm." Sherlock grinned.

"What are you 'hming' for, he nearly beat my arse too!"

"Oh, he can't do that, that's my job."

"Huh?"

"At home, in my bedroom, with the riding crop."

John blushed at the suggestion.

"Give me a day to recover and we'll talk about it."

~ The End ~

**Author's Note: **Ta-da! That's it, all done with this fic, it was fun to write, thinking of the situations and the dialogue. I'm glad I finished a chapter fic and what's great is that this shows my strengths and weaknesses as a fiction writer, so practice makes near perfection. I apologize for the errors. I hope you all had fun with this fic, feel free to draw a scene if you want to and Thank you for reading and reviewing. I have a Tumblr, which I go by Iwillfangirthefuckoutofyou, should you want to follow and stuff, yeah. Review if you want.


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